As Different As Night And Day
by Radiorox
Summary: While recovering from a nearfatal crash, Harm’s heart is tested as he finds himself questioning his feelings over Mac, the lawyer who’s defending him and Diane, the woman he thought he loved. - COMPLETE!
1. Broken

**FF Tile:** As Different As Night And Day 

**Author:** Jackie – aka: Radiorox 

**Summary:** While recovering from a near-fatal crash, Harm's heart is tested as he finds himself questioning his feelings over Mac, the lawyer who's defending him and Diane, the woman he thought he loved. The uncanny similarities are chipped away to find they are as different as night and day.

**Authors Note:** Yes! Finally! It's posted!!

Okay, this story will stretch a few JAG storylines, add to some and completely discombobulate a few others. Here's what you need to know:

This takes place during JAG Season 4 however, Harm's not at JAG and has never been a JAG. He is a pilot serving on an aircraft carrier. The ramp strike takes place in season 4, not when it did in the show and we assume everything was just dandy with him until then. Mac, Bud, Harriet, AJ and Tiner assume the same roles they had during season 4.

Diane is still alive and never went through the whole crap with Holbarth. On some occasions she has served with Harm on the carriers. Oh, and she's not the most charming of persons. ;) 

Tidbits – Originally, this story was going to be written in Harm's point of view. Once I started to get some different ideas, I opted for third person as I thought the audience needed to know what the other characters were thinking without jumping point of views.

So that's it. The first chappie is slow and it'll move quickly after that. I expect at max to have between 10-15 chappies.

Enjoy!

Jackie

**Chapter 1 – Broken**

**1230 Local**

**Bethesda Naval Hospital**

**Bethesda, Maryland**

"That's it darling. Easy does it." Patricia Burnett cooed as her heart skipped a beat when her son's eyes began to flutter. "Harmon, come back to us." Part of her always believed that she'd get 'the call' which signified that her son had suffered a fate like his father's. And yet, the other part was cautiously optimistic in hoping that an angel would watch over him.

Harmon Rabb Junior was every bit like the man that fathered him. Tenacious, attractive, intelligent, honorable and heroic to a fault. Worst of all, he had jet fuel running through his veins which prevented her from rationalizing her fears of his designator. He was born to be a pilot for the US Navy and, from what she understood, he was a damned fine one. However, even the best had their worst moments. Harm's came in the form of night blindness which took him by surprise. . .

**One Month Earlier**

**USS Patrick Henry**

**Virginia Capes Operating Area****  
**

. . .The brown haired, brown eyed woman sitting across from Harm at the officer's mess had always held his interest. From the moment they met at the Naval Academy, he was smitten. She didn't really feel the same and some would say that she never would. Oh, she adored him, liked him even, but would never reciprocate his affections. If one would put a name to it all, their relationship was built solely on lust, only he was too blind to see it. Nah, maybe he wasn't blind – the word was 'love starved.'

"I'm what?" Harm said, his eyebrow rising slightly at her brazen comment. He'd been trying to discuss a future, something that would cut short his bachelor days. It would be an experiment, really, to see if he could last with just one woman. Diane, in his mind, was worth it.

Her soft giggle was an indication of her feelings on the matter. "Love starved. I think you need to be with someone at all times. It's fine, a lot of people go through that. . .I just. . ." She sighed. Lieutenant Diane Shonke didn't want to hurt his feelings; part of her really did love him on some level, just not the one that counted. "Let's get off of this tub first and we'll see how it goes, okay?"

What confused him was her earlier want to "discuss the future", something that seemed to suddenly be tabled. "Okay, back up one second." He leaned in closer in his chair. "Twenty minutes ago, you head over to my stateroom to talk about the future and now you want to table it?"

Diane shrugged. "Harm, you have this vibe about you and a smile that can knock a woman to her knees. You have a good heart and are a decent guy, but we can't discus the future when just a couple weeks ago we were with other people." There went torpedo number one, crashing straight into him without so much as a warning. Her desire to discuss their relationship off of the ship was more for his sake than hers. A pilot needed to have his head in the game. Part of her hoped that in the next month he'd forget about it all together. She rather preferred the casual relationship and greatly yearned for the casual sex that came with it. They were good in bed; spectacular, actually. That was pretty much the sole reason why she bothered with him any more. Any guy that good in bed was worth keeping around; even if it meant keeping him at a distance.

"It was our mutual consent to see other people, Di. When I suggested exclusivity you. . "

"I said I needed more time." She was curt with him.

Hadn't he given her enough time? Not that he'd been actively chasing her, he'd just put his two cents in. They were good together and he thought she felt the same way. "I've given you plenty of time. . .Since the Academy, and I. . ."

Leaning forward, she placed a hand on his cheek. "I care for you. I really do. In some ways I love you. But I don't know what you want from me."

"I just want you. . .just you."

But it wasn't that simple; life in the military seldom was. With a long term relationship came sacrifices and with her new billet to the Pacific Fleet, it wasn't something that Diane was looking for. She didn't love him enough to give herself up. "I am not giving up my career in order to be with you. . . We are both young, successful. . . I like being on a tour and I like being at sea." She chuckled slightly and then shrugged. "Guess it's all of those sailors in my gene pool."

"So you don't care for me enough to make this work, but you do care enough to sleep with me?" He felt used, betrayed and enraged. Harm had been like her love slave, willing to please her with hopes of getting the great prize.

"Sex between us is good." She whispered flippantly. Her eyes shined with mischief as she let her foot caress the inner side of his ankle. "I can honestly say that you do things to me that others haven't."

Harm stood up abruptly, the motion causing his chair to fall back. "Well, I hope you enjoyed it Lieutenant, because it's over." The finality of his voice did well to hide the pain he felt. People in his life always seemed to come and go. He believed Diane to be different, with her sweet smile and cute flirtation. Now she was different, much different than the woman she pretended to be.

"We can still be friends, can't we? With benefits?" She took a cautious look around, noting that they were now alone and such comments would not be caught by others. The dangerous look in his eyes told her differently. "Oh, c'mon, Harm! Think about us in the past. We've always been that way – simple, unattached, uncomplicated. Why do you want to change that now?"

"Because I thought it meant more than that. I guess I was wrong." Angrily, he stormed out of the mess and headed to change for flight ops.

There was an unwritten, golden rule that came to any line of work – 'keep your personal problems at home.' However, when you lived at the same place that you worked, the lines were often blurred, scattered even. Everywhere he looked there was something that reminded him of Diane. It was paranoia, but on his way to the ready room it seemed as if everyone was staring like they knew their secret.

"Something wrong, Hammer?" RIO's had a knack for sensing problems with their pilots, no matter how long they'd been a team. There were certain things you'd certainly pick up. "Yo, Hammer?" Lieutenant Jason "Reaper" Mace could often be like a dog with a bone.

"W-what?" Glancing around, Harm realized that he was sitting in an empty ready room, dressed in his flight suit and just a few steps away from slipping into the cockpit of an F-14 Tomcat. Had he missed the whole meeting?

Reaper shook his head and pointed upwards to the large bolt that was taped over their seats. "Look, buddy, _that_ can happen to anyone. Besides, the fucking deck was listing over so far _I_ lost sight of the meatball. That storm last night sucked." Bolts over the chairs of pilots and RIOs had become a Naval prank throughout the years. It signified a 'bolter', when the aircraft missed the arresting wire which was needed to stop the plane once it landed on the aircraft carrier.

Though not uncommon, it wasn't something that Harm had ever experienced. Still, even the most seasoned flyer was not immune to the elements. "Don't sweat it too much, man. Everyone knows you're the best stick in the Navy."

Harm's preoccupation was not on the bolt, but more on a woman who'd turned from caring to cold hearted faster than he could comprehend. There were easier ways to turn a man down, though he knew that his persistence could irritate a saint. "It's nothing, partner. Just women troubles."

"Ah, sometimes that's the best kind of trouble. . .Let's head out and I'll buy you some coffee when we get back. We can shoot the shit about it then." Reaper had his own women trouble, a wife at home who was divorcing him over the mistress he had in Washington. The two women were nearly identical and he claimed to love them both. In truth, neither relationship was working well. Not that it mattered; Reaper seemed to live in the moment. There was, however, his daughter, four year old Natalie, which he loved to death. It was the only relationship with a woman that actually worked. 

Perhaps women troubles _were_ indeed the best kinda of troubles. For the most part, Harm had a charmed life with a rich step father and a mother that he rarely spoke to on account of his work. He loved her but couldn't stand the lectures and the constant 'seed planting' of him leaving carrier life for law school. "Listen, Harm. . .About yesterday."

Harm waved a hand to stop the apology he knew was coming. "Reap, it's alright."

The two had gone at it pretty hard in an argument that had surprised the whole squadron. It came as a result of Harm's poor landing and Reaper's reluctance to take the blame after trying to help him correct the landing. "No, it's not. . .I could have gotten us killed. Hell man, you knew what you were doing and you did it better than anyone else. . .I should have kept my mouth shut. That's why I'm the backseater and you're the stick."

"Hey, you made a judgment call. It's not exactly fair that I hold your life in my hands, is it?" He grinned wickedly and punched Reaper on the arm, hard enough to leave a mark.

"Oww, hey! That's conduct unbecoming there, buddy." Reaper pulled Harm to his feet and put him in a playful headlock. "Look, about your girl troubles. . .it ain't no trouble at all. You're the stick, I am the backseater and the sticks always get the chics." He chuckled, dragging Harm behind him. "And with your reputation. . ."

After all of the usual checks that came with being the crew of a supersonic jet, both pilot and RIO hopped inside, hoping to get a little action out of this particular mission. From the cockpit, Harm watched as a Hornet took flight, he shook his head in disgust. "Sometimes I think they want to replace these babies with those bugs."

Reaper groaned, "May God take my life before I strap my ass in that piece of shit."

"Amen to that." Harm finished going through his checklist and not a moment later they were being shot off the ship and sent airborne. The mission had been a simple training round in order to get familiar with a top secret device newly installed in the F-14. After refueling, they headed back to the island. "Damnit, why do we always get shoved with the shit weather?" Harm commented to his RIO as he peaked through the rear mirror.

Reaper looked slightly nervous and had a right to be considering they'd almost suffered a ramp strike a night prior. "Fate, maybe? I don't know, just keep your eyes on the ship, Hammer."

Taking a breath, Harm began to align the plane when he noticed something _very_ wrong. He brought his hand up to his eyes pressing against the bridge of his nose. The lack of control swung the plane violently to the sides in a move that forced him to correct suddenly. "Shit."

"Harm. . .What's going on?" He heard his RIO ask, his voice tense and worrisome. "Call the ball and get us home."

Harm swallowed hard, he wasn't too far from the ship now and between the haze that the weather was creating and the sudden change in his eyesight he couldn't find the meatball. "Reap. . . I can't see."

"What do you mean you can't see?!"

The plane swung again, enough for the crew to break radio silence. "_Rabb, what the hell is going on?"_ He heard the LSO ask and forced himself to concentrate harder. "_Take control, now!"_

Fighting his eyes and the weather, Harm didn't register just how close he was coming, nor just how low. "One. Seven. Three. Tomcat, ball. Three. Point. Seven."

"_Roger, ball!"_

"Stay on the glide path, Hammer."

"I got it." He reassured, but his eyes said something different. He felt the plane listing left and made the correction too quickly."

"_You're a little low!"_ The voice came over the communication unit and his senses were soon assaulted by both the ship and Reaper's orders.

"Damnit, Harm pull up!" Reaper yelled.

"_Power! Power! Power!" _The LSO urged just a little too late for their sake.

Reaper reached for the ejection handle. "We have to punch out!"

"No! I got it!" One thing that Harm never doubted was his abilities as a pilot. He was good. The best in the Navy. His judgment was cutting edge and his reflexes locked into perfection. His eyes couldn't see just how low he was coming in until it was too late. He managed to raise the plane up, but a sudden jerk took his hand off of the stick. "No!" He felt Reaper's seat eject and next came his own as he was hurled into the air and through the fireball caused by the Tomcat crashing into the deck. . .

**1230 Local**

**Bethesda Naval Medical Center**

**Bethesda, Maryland**

. . .Harm's eyes scanned the room, eventually stopping on a familiar face that he couldn't quite put a name to. "It's going to be alright, darling." The voice soothed him and so did the words, which he'd heard long ago when the woman was comforting him.

That's when the memory came of being five years old and cradled in his mother's loving arms. 'It's going to be alright, darling.' She used the same words when they'd learned that his father – Harmon Rabb Senior – had been shot down over Vietnam. "Mom." He croaked out, regretting it once pain rippled through his body. He groaned in agony and tried to lean over only to find that it was impossible. His eyes went wide with shock. "Mom? Where am I?"

"Bethesda." Trish Burnett brushed a hand over her son's face, the caress easing him. The bruises were gone, so was the nasty gash that he'd sustained. The tube that was forcing him to breathe had been removed a few days prior and now, the only thing left was a thin tube that supplied him with oxygen along with the various IVs that helped stop infections. "It's okay, sweetheart . . .You have a couple of broken ribs and you hurt your left knee. . .All in all, the doctor believes you are very lucky." She hoped he wouldn't ask about his RIO or the funeral she attended several weeks prior. "Tom is keeping me informed of everything that's going on."

Harm turned his head and sighed, wincing at the pain. Captain Thomas Boone had been Harm senior's wingman during the Vietnam conflict and somewhat of a mentor for Harm Junior. Now CAG of the USS Patrick Henry, the man had always kept Harm abreast of certain on goings and was no doubt looking into the accident with an eagle eye. "Mom, what happened to Reaper?" His mother didn't need to say a word, the look in her eyes was answer enough. "Oh God. . .he's. . .dead?"

"Yes, Harm. . .I don't know the details, they won't tell me, but. . .Your step father and I attended the funeral." She left it at that, choosing not to elaborate on the tiny details that she knew. Reaper's wife never went and neither did Natalie. While he was at sea, the woman had found another man and could care less about her, soon-to-be-ex, husband. "It was a beautiful ceremony."

It hurt him to cry, to know that everything he'd prepared for in life was practically over. That was usually the case with an accident of this nature. Some pilots just never got back in the saddle. "Mom, what happened to me? Why couldn't I see?"

"Harm, according to the doctors, you were fine. You _are_ fine. . .No trauma to the brain. . ."

No, he couldn't be fine, there was something wrong with his eyes. He knew it and had been suffering for a few nights believing it was lack of sleep. "But, I couldn't see."

"It'll be alright." With a sigh, she leaned forward and ran a hand over his face. "Get some rest, darling. You're going to need it."

He didn't want to rest or sleep. All he wanted to do was find out what had happened and why. His vision had failed and he'd screwed the pooch. Harm couldn't help but feel like a failure and the guilt of Reaper's death would surely haunt him for life.


	2. Defending Their Honor

**Wow! Thanks for the reviews guys! I really didn't expect so many people to be interested! Here's chapter 2, Harm and Mac wil meet in Chapter 3. I am going to post 1 chapter per week until I get the story finished completely and then I'll post a bit more.**

**Thanks again and expect a response from me if you left a way for me to contact you!**

**enjoy!**

**Jackie**

**Chapter 2 – Defending Their Honor.  
****Two Weeks Later  
Courtroom B  
****JAG Headquarters  
****Falls Church, Virginia**

Major Sarah MacKenzie stood perfectly still, waiting for the verdict that would either make or break her client's career. It was a difficult case, evidence that she'd procured had gone missing and the judge was too much of a hard ass to toss out the case. Then again, it _was_ a rape case and a very high profile one at that. The son of a General who was blamed for the rape and attack of an eighteen year old, enlisted woman.

At first, Mac herself thought that her client was guilty. The guy was a womanizing creep who even leered at her when she'd first walked into the brig to question him. Just because the man was a pig didn't mean he would be responsible for such a vicious attack though. Her professionalism won over her personal feelings and she allowed the evidence to fall where it may. The man had an alibi, but it was in the form of a friend who was too drunk to certainly tell where the man had been.

Once the case was over, whether she won or not, Mac was going to suggest that the friend be investigated, she had a hunch and was seldom wrong about those kind of hunches. "You may read the verdict."

She felt her client take a breath and hold it as the Lieutenant on the panel read through the list of charges. It seemed like forever before two little, glorious words were uttered, "Not guilty.'

"Congratulations Lieutenant." Mac extended her hand to her client and was immediately pulled into a hug.

"Oh ma'am, I don't know how you did it but thank you! Thank you!"

She pushed away gently and patted him on the shoulder. "It's my duty, Lieutenant. Make sure to stay out of trouble and that's an order." The usual congratulatory moment commenced as she discussed moments of the case with her opponent, Lieutenant Commander Alan Mattoni. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed someone standing by the two heavy, courtroom doors.

Lieutenant Bud Roberts was a great asset to JAG, with his knack for digging up anything found in a computer and having JAG's finest lawyer in his corner, he was becoming a force to be reckoned with. He approached his mentor with a serious look on his face. "Ma'am, the Admiral wants to see you ASAP." Bud led the way through the winding corridors and into JAG headquarters. "He's in his office."

"Could you put these away for me, Bud?" Mac handed him her cover and briefcase and then quickly sped through the bullpen and towards Admiral A.J. Chegwidden's office.

Petty Officer Jason Tiner, the Admiral's yeoman, glanced up from his computer. "Congratulations ma'am."

"News got out already?" It never ceased amazed her just how quickly scuttlebutt traveled in the military, often she felt like it was high school all over again.

"Yes, ma'am. . .The Admiral's waiting for you."

"Thank you, Tiner." The young man was a sweetheart, that is if you saw past his often bumbling ways and gasoline-like form of coffee. Mac knocked on the Admiral's door and stepped inside once called to. She walked in front of Chegwidden's desk and stood at attention. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

AJ Chegwidden was a bit of a conundrum when it came to commanding officers. More often than not, he was gruff, with one wicked attitude and a pension for making his subordinates squirm. Mac wasn't immune, but managed to hide her worries much more effectively. And then he'd often become like a father figure, opting to help out in all sorts of situations. She always figured that, inside, AJ was a big, ol' softy. The Admiral ignored her for a moment, finishing up the files that needed his signature. If there was one thing that Mac had zero patience for was the waiting game that AJ often played. She wasn't sure if he did it to piss her off or scare her. "At ease, take a seat, Major."

She breathed a slow breath of relief and then settled into the chair across from his desk. He still didn't speak right away, merely finished with the documents and then slid his reading glasses off, placing them on the table. "How's your knowledge of aircrafts?"

The question came completely out of left field. It was an odd one too, Chegwidden had her service records and knew that she'd never been on a fighter jet before in her life. "I've learned a thing or two during the five or six mishap cases I've investigated in the last. . ."

Chegwidden waved her off and then leaned back into his chair. "Almost a month ago there was a ramp strike on the carrier USS Patrick Henry."

"I saw it on ZNN, sir. . .The RIO was killed and the pilot was severely injured." Neither the names nor any other information was disclosed, only that the Navy would be looking into the mishap.

"The pilot woke up a couple of days ago and the the Navy has chosen to launch a full investigation now."

That wasn't much of a surprise considering they'd been so swamped with cases, half of which had been opened for weeks. "I assume that has to do with the backlog?"

"You are correct on that. I don't know if the delay will help or hurt the investigation, but I want you to be your normal, rational, impartial self. Am I understood?"

"Crystal clear, sir." Like she's ever been anything but impartial? Okay, so there had been a case or two with a client that tended to be abusive towards women. Those kind of clients Mac had a bit of trouble handling, it reminded her too much of the past. She accepted the file which Chegwidden passed to her, a manila folder with the JAG emblem glued to the front. A bright, red text suggested that the information was 'Classified' and Mac suddenly realized that there was something more that the Admiral had failed to mention.

He sat quietly as his officer went through the files. Mac was meticulous, even at the preliminary phases of case work. It was something that he enjoyed, which is why the Admiral tended to be tougher on her than others. If things went his way Mac would be the first woman sitting in his chair.

Skimming through the information, Mac went through all of the normal particulars before turning to Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior's service photo. It was hard not to catch her breath, the man was damned good looking. There was a familiarity to him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. If what she knew about jet jocks was true, he probably had a killer smile to go with the gold wings and an ego the size of the former Soviet Union. Carefully shoving away her thoughts about his appearance, she moved to the incident report filed by the LSO on the night of the accident. "Lieutenant Commander Jason Mace III, sir?"

AJ grinned, that was the one piece of information that he'd hoped Mac would pick up on immediately. "Senator Sofia Mace of California. . .Jason was her only son."

"And her husband was KIA in 'Nam." Though Senator Mace was a fair woman, she despised the military and constantly fought to put government funding into other areas. She'd had a run in with the woman before, as well as one Senator Bobbi Latham who often had an axe to grind. Both women had applauded Mac's efforts in fighting to secure women's rights in the military one year prior. And still, despite their mutual plight, this Marine couldn't stomach what the other two women stood for. Politics was just something that shouldn't meddle in military affairs. Sadly, the two came hand in hand. Politicians often used the armed forces as either their punching bags or their own private militia.

"I forgot that you had a run in with Senator Mace." He slid another file her way, one that was jam packed with statements taken by the Seahawk's skipper, Captain Elis J. Kohanek. "The skipper didn't want to miss a beat on the mishap. He got statements from anyone who saw the accident." He sighed in disapproval. "Kohanek is a hardass, he's trying to work his way up the promotion ladder."

"And ruining a pilot's career is certainly one way to go about it." Oh yes, she spotted that too. Commander Rabb's service record read like somewhat of an action movie. Tom Cruise's Maverick would have been insanely jealous.

"Lieutenant Commander Rabb is the Navy's best. He was the poster boy during the last two recruitment shoots and he's on the fast track to becoming either CAG or an instructor at Fallon. Rumor has it that the CIA has been trying to tap him for a. . . 'classified' mission which Mr. Rabb has been unwilling to participate in, hence the lettering on the front of the document."

Mac rolled her eyes at the thought. If the CIA got wind of the investigation (which was a cinch that they had), they would be all over JAG like white on rice. "Is that a cryptic way of telling me that I should watch out for Clayton Webb?"

"Once they catch wind of it I suspect that Webb may stick his nose into it. . .Undersecretary my ass." AJ snorted shaking his head. Clayton Webb was, for lack of a better word, a jerk. The man had a penchant for sticking his nose into Naval operations when it suited him and, more often than not, that involved the JAG office as well. "Let's just hope that Mr. Webb stays at Langley and away from the investigation."

"Amen to that." Mac had personally been involved with Webb on more than one occasion. She'd been tapped to aid him in a covert mission that nearly got her killed. Not to mention, the man had tried to and succeeded in putting her uncle, Marine Corps Colonel Matthew O'Hara, behind bars when he'd stolen the Declaration of Independence. She was lucky that Chegwidden was in her corner and after a few sharp words, offered to aid her into keeping the sentence at Leavenworth a short one.

Past that, there had been another run in with Webb. A not so pleasant one involving dinner, a bottle of wine (which he drank alone) and a fist connecting with his face and breaking his nose. Subsequently, the man had stopped chasing after her, but often wrote an e-mail or two just to keep his name in the running. Mac snorted at the thought. 'Yeah right, over my dead body.' She'd already been through one too many bad relationships to start one that would be a failure from the get go.

"Keep me abreast of the situation, Major. There are too many factors that I don't like and the last thing I want is for one damned fine pilot to wind up a spook. Dismissed."

Mac stood up and came to attention. "Aye, aye, sir." She stepped out of Chegwidden's office, files clutched tightly as she weaved through the bullpen stopping at Lieutenant j.g. Bud J. Roberts' desk. "Bud, pull up anything you can find about Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior, USN and join me in my office as soon as you have it."

"Aye, ma'am." Bud wasn't anything if not efficient and Mac knew that even before she had a moment to thoroughly read through the information, her protégé would have everything she asked for and more.

Once inside the safety of her office, she sat behind her desk and pulled open the file again which happened to open back at the Commander's picture. "Mmm, you are an attractive one, Lieutenant Commander Rabb." Professionalism aside, she was a woman, a single woman who was allowed to look and _pretend_ that cute guys didn't matter. The black and white service photo didn't hide the gleam in his eyes and if they were as blue as his record stated, she could only imagine the women falling to their knees before him.

True to form, Bud did not walk in without being asked to. It was a habit she'd hoped to break and then again, it was a habit that made Bud who he was. "I heard about the incident over ZNN when it happened. I wouldn't want that to happen to anyone, but I'm sorry that it had to be Commander Rabb."

Mac raised her head from the paperwork and glared at the Lieutenant. "Did you know him?"

"Yes, ma'am. . .He was recently promoted to Lieutenant Commander when I left the Seahawk to join JAG. . .Harriet, uh, Ensign Simms also knew the Commander."

It sometimes helped to have an inside track and Bud she trusted implicitly. "What can you tell me about the Commander, Bud?"

"He wasn't the typical jet jock. Scuttlebutt has it that his father went MIA in 'Nam. According to the files his grandfather was also a pilot, died shooting off of the Horn. ."

"Bud, screw the files, what can _you_ tell me about Commander Rabb." Okay, so Bud was sometimes a little over-efficient.

He cleared his throat and grinned sheepishly. "Of course, Major. . .I talked to him a few times and he seemed to be a good guy. Loved flying and ah. . ." He glanced at her oddly then, much as he'd done the first time they met a good three and a half years prior. "I used to see him hanging out with an academy friend of his. Lieutenant Diane Schonke."

Mac cringed at the thought. There were enough problems with women in the military to have two academy sweethearts on the same cruise together. Not that she hadn't dealt in her own form of fraternization, but she'd learned from that mistake. "Were they lovers?"

"Possibly but. . ." He stopped and bit his lower lip, nervously glancing at his mentor. "She looks like you, ma'am."

Her brow rose in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"She does. . .I can't explain it, but Lieutenant Schonke does look a lot like you." It was a fact that he'd noticed at their introduction and something that Bud had kept under wraps for fear that he would overstep a boundary or two. "Your voice is a little deeper and she was a lot more fun. . ." He cleared his throat and shook his head viciously. Talk about the wrong thing to say! At Mac's harsh glance he smiled slightly. "What I mean is that you. . .you know? The difference between sailors and Marines. . .You're more squared away."

Bud's befuddled expression made her chuckle, in a second he would likely bring up Quantum Leap or Star Trek or some other show she'd never been acquainted with. "So I have a twin out here?"

"Something like that, ma'am. . . . But your personalities, they're as different as night and day." He added finally and then reached over to take a file that Mac handed him. "Wow. . .Captain Kohanek didn't waste any time." He frowned in thought of the skipper with a penchant for being a hard ass with anyone on the cruise.

"The Admiral mentioned he's a bit enthusiastic."

Enthusiastic wasn't quite the word that Bud would use. More like egomaniacal. "He's got a chip on his shoulder, ma'am. . .Great for the ship but not for much else." He shrugged. Bullies were everywhere in life. It just sucked that this particular bully governed over an entire ship. "I would ignore half of these reports, Major. I would bet my life that he scared the crew into talking. It's his M.O."

Mac sighed, she was growing tired of commanders that used their rank to threaten the 'little people.' "I am going to Bethesda to speak to Lieutenant Commander Rabb. In the meantime, go through those interviews and find me something that works. Oh, and find out where the Seahawk is and get me to her. I don't want to waste anytime on this. Rumor has it that the CIA is looking for a few good pilots and Rabb is one of them."

Bud cringed at the thought. "Does this mean that Mr. Webb will be involved?"

She dreaded the thought of Webb's involvement in anything, more so if it involved him using JAG as a recruitment center. "All I can say is, 'Prepare for the worst." With that, she took her purse and cover and headed out of her office and down to the JAG car pool.

Watching her go, Bud couldn't help but think of Harm's reaction to the woman. Would he notice the differences right away or would he believe that Sarah MacKenzie was Diane Shonke? Oh, to watch that interaction.


	3. Dead Ringer

Here's the part that you guys are longing for! They meet. Woo Hoo!! And it will get better from here on out. One of their other meetings will be a little more... uh... "interesting." ;)

Bare with me a bit on details and errors, originaly it was set in San Diego and I decided to switch it at the last minute, so if something doesn't add up, please let me know. I tried to change what I needed, but things tend to slip past.

Other than that, all is semi-good in my life. I have a NEW CAR!!! Wooo Hoo!! A Chevrolet HHR in Orange. It's a kick ass little (or not so little) car that I am absolutely in love with. Stick shift and fun to drive and a gift from my father. A surprise gift, actually. Now I just have to Mod it a bit to make it more "original"

Besides that, I have a cold (YES AGAIN). Being in contact with so many people gets you sick a lot. I think I am going to switch my perfume from Victoria Secrets' Succulent to Lysol's Spray Sanitizer. Oh and I sprained my ring finger on my left hand. Yes, I am a walking train wreck! Woo Hoo! Anyway, enough about me! ;)

Enjoy!

Jackie

**Chapter 3 – Dead Ringer  
1340 Local  
Bethesda Medical Center  
Bethesda, Maryland**

With a huff, Harm allowed the therapist, Caroline Spencer to settle him back into bed. "You did good, Commander. . .I suspect that Dr. Laughlin will have you out of here soon enough." Clearly not immune to his good looks, she smiled brightly. "I'll be sad to see you go." The continuous flirting was becoming quite annoying. Harm knew he was attractive, but also knew that women were more attracted to his uniform and gold wings. "You'll be up in front of that review board in no time."

"Oh, yeah. I bet they'll welcome me back with open arms." He said snidely, doubting very much that he'd ever get into the cockpit again. There were just too many variables and if Reaper's mother was as bad as his RIO had led him to believe, this was an uphill battle.

Nevertheless, his therapist was the chipper type – the kind that walked around with a grin permanently plastered to her face and a perkiness that stated she needed to switch to decaf. "Now, now, Commander, what was it that I said about positive thinking?"

Harm groaned in disbelief. If the woman gave him another lecture about her surreal life changes due to positive thinking, he was going to shoot himself. "Caroline, right now it's rather difficult to be positive. . .I don't know what's going on and. . ." He paused and breathed deeply. The agitation was hurting his ribs as he tried to control his breathing. "I. . .need. . .rest." He punctuated and leaned firmly into the pillows.

"Alright, I'll see you on Monday then. But don't get lazy over the weekend." She warned and bounded out of the hospital room and out to terrorize her next victim.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harm turned to look out of the window and to the crystal blue skies. If the Patrick Henry were docking, he would have to miss the usual fly in as the pilots launched off of the carrier and landed at the base nearby. It was the common procedure as the carrier never came into port with its squadron on her. He loved those times, seeing all of the friends and family lining up to wait for their heroes. It gave him a sense of accomplishment that had never been surpassed by anything else in his life. Inside a cockpit is where he belonged, preferably with the Navy. It was a cinch that Clayton Webb was trying to use this accident to sway him into joining the CIA. The thought sounded more delectable as the lack of news on his situation grew.

Reaching for the remote, he hit the nurse's paging button and asked to be helped into a wheelchair. He could walk, but it was best for him not to strain himself, so he was wheelchair bound in an effort to keep pain and accidents at a minimum. Harm hadn't liked it at first but was soon seeing the advantages – ie. lack of pain. There was always a pretty nurse or two that would do the favor of wheeling him around Bethesda and down to the gardens that they had. It was his meditation area, a place where he could breathe and forget about the injuries and the mishap. (AN: Not a clue of Bethesda has gardens, but, author's privilege!)

Christ, the mishap. Accident. It didn't matter how 'accidental' it was, Harm still blamed himself. He'd had catscans, MRIs and even had his eyes checked to find that nothing was physically wrong. The ophthalmologist had suggested a temporary 'night blindness' of sorts that could have been caused due to high amounts of stress or a possible black out or GLOC, due to a G-Suit malfunction. A subsequent 'stress check' had found that all of the necessary stress hormones were through the roof. To Harm that seemed a normal occurrence. Find a pilot who wasn't slightly stressed and there you had a problem. The stress was part of the drive that kept them alive up there; and a massive ego to boot.

He pondered his situation as one of the nurses led him through the hospital and into the elevator on their way to the gardens. The Navy had yet to send someone who cared to hear his side of the story; what he remembered of it. Not even Kohanek had called to see how his star pilot was doing. The only ones that seemed to care were the other squadron members who'd called briefly to send their best wishes. Diane had called as well, stating that she'd be with him as soon as the Henry docked. He wasn't too sure he wanted her company, not after the lover's spat they'd had prior to the accident. "Thank you." He said to the nurse once she locked the chair and placed him in an area under a tree, amongst a rose garden. "Come back in an hour or so."

It had been an argument to see that they left him alone out there, but after much bickering and a threat of running off in the middle of the night, the staff had conceded. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found that he was all alone. Well, not completely alone he found as a woman in Marine greens began walking towards him. She looked familiar, shockingly familiar and when she stood a mere four feet in front of him Harm spoke the first thing that came to mind. "Why the hell are you wearing a Marine uniform?"

Mac glanced at the file in her hand and then back at the man she knew to be Lieutenant Commander Rabb. The petite nurse who had been exiting the gardens had confirmed it. It took a second or two to register his absurd comment. Self consciously, she glanced down at her uniform wondering if something was out of place. It briefly registered that maybe this guy was like most other members of the boys club – unyielding to the thought of women in the military. The idea made her angry and she shot back with a tone that dripped with sarcasm, something that she'd perfected through the years. "Because I am a _Marine_?"

The man didn't seem convinced and if the scowl was any indication, he definitely did not approve. Perturbed, Harm furled his brow. "Did you switch branches?" Had more time passed than he'd been led to believe? Diane's family bred sailors, there wasn't Marine green in sight.

The Marine was not amused. She glanced around expecting him to be speaking to someone else. Surely he wouldn't be addressing her. "Commander, if this is some sort of macho bullshit because the Navy sent a woman, I am not amused. . . .I'm Major Sarah MacKenzie, JAG Corps." Opting to put the last few minutes of awkwardness behind, she extended her hand and was a little off put when he didn't take it but merely laughed. Mac didn't find it funny. In fact, she was finding a way to wipe the smile from his face without warranting legal ramifications.

If this was Diane's idea of toying with him, he had to admit, she almost had him. "Funny. Diane. Who'd you swipe the uniform from?"

"Diane?" Mac asked, her brow rising in question. "Oh, yes." Okay, so she'd briefly forgotten her conversation with Bud about her 'twin.' Maybe she just didn't want to believe. From the look on the Commander's face, her protégé was not kidding. She wasn't too sure she enjoyed the thought of being someone's twin. "Commander, I'm sorry. ..I'm not Lieutenant Shonke." She fished through her purse finding her badge and JAG identification.

Harm took the badge and traded glances between the picture on the ID and the woman standing before him. He studied the Major and realized that it really wasn't Diane. At first glance, they were twins, same face, same height. But the Marine's hair had highlights, he noticed, despite it being mostly hidden under the garrison cap. Brown eyes looked down at him, but her facial expression was different than that which he was accustomed to. The Marine had lovely eyes, he hue of her iris' made them look like molten chocolate while Diane's were a little closer to black.

"Commander?" Her voice was different too, an octave deeper.

The parts of her that were not covered by her uniform disclosed olive colored skin which meant she was of Mid-Eastern decent. Diane was purely American with skin so white, she would burn more than tan when she sunbathed. After comparing both women's attributes, he found the Marine to be more attractive than her counterpart, a thought that bewildered and annoyed him. "I'm sorry, Major. . ." He trailed off and extended his hand in an effort to shake her own.

"MacKenzie." Mac said and shook his hand, feeling a strange sensation when they touched. They shook hands for a few more seconds, eyes locked with matching expressions of bewilderment. She reluctantly slipped her hand out of his and dropped her badge into her purse. "So, this Diane looks _that_ similar to me?"

"Yes." He smiled charmingly and added, "I mean, sort of. . . The resemblance is uncanny." Minus the few pluses that MacKenzie had to offer. He also found that her breast were larger in comparison to Diane's. Of course, Marine uniforms were a little better tailored than. . . "Ugh." He shook his head at the thought. The last thing he needed at the moment was to be ogling a strange woman's breasts and comparing them to his former/current lover's who could have been her twin. "How'd you know about Diane?"

"A colleague of mine served with her." Mac pointed to a bench behind him. "May I?"

"Of course." He released the brakes and turned his wheelchair slightly, enough so that he could see the Marine. Harm found it a pity that she wasn't wearing a skirt. Something told him that with her gorgeous appearance she had a set of legs that would rival any models. "I assume that you're my lawyer?"

"I wouldn't quite put it that way as of yet. The Navy has just started to investigate. We've been backlogged and it just got to us now. I am sorry about that. Normally I would have done this much earlier." His frown indicated that the Commander wasn't too happy about the delay. For that matter, Mac wasn't either, it usually meant that people forgot things or, with improper motivation, recalled something they hadn't seen. "How are you feeling?"

Harm shrugged, the action causing him to wince slightly. "I hurt. . .My ribs are broken, I had a concussion and I woke up to find that my RIO is dead and I killed him." At least, that was how he felt, though Tuna, his bunkmate, had mentioned something about Reaper killing himself when he pulled the ejection handle.

Mac hated seeing the hurt in his sea green eyes and longed to take him in her arms and comfort him. _'Where the hell did that thought come from?' _She gave herself a mental shake and proceeded with her job. "This is all off the records for now. I am just trying to gather enough intel to figure out how to help you best. . .Do you really believe you killed Lieutenant Mace?" She rather hoped that he didn't. For that matter, she really hoped that he hadn't done anything stupid to cause another man's death.

"I am the pilot in control of the aircraft. I crashed it and Jason died. . .Wouldn't you say that I killed him?"

"Commander. . ." She tried to interject but he stopped her.

"Harm." He corrected. If she was going to be delving into this painful part of his life, he preferred a little less formality.

Her brow rose in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

Offering a lopsided smile, he clarified. "Harmon Rabb Junior. . .that usually gets cut down to 'Harm.'" When her expression told him that she was unsure of the nickname, he added. "You're going to be poking and prodding through my life. . .I'd prefer it if you called me Harm."

Mac considered it for a moment. Despite her own beliefs and mantras about not getting too close to a client, she decidedly liked the concept of informality. "Alright, in that case call me Mac."

"Mac?" He questioned, curious why she hadn't asked him to call her Sarah. It was a beautiful name for an equally beautiful woman. _'Rabb! Get your head out of the gutter!' _He reprimanded himself. Not that his mind was in the gutter, _yet._

"Short for MacKenzie. . . My uncle gave me that name when I was little and it stuck during boot camp." She rather preferred the moniker, finding that most, especially men, gave her more respect as a Mac than a Sarah. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small writing pad and a pen. "Okay Harm, let's get down to it. . .What do you remember?"

He liked that tactic, it was much better than beating around the bush. Point and shoot usually worked the best with military types. Harm told his tale with as much details as possible, often pausing to clarify at point or two. All the while, Mac felt the despair and the pain as if he were the one living through it. No one should have had to go through such a mishap, especially at night, during a storm when visibility was so poor. "Reaper ejected.. I think the blow from the seat was what caused me to lose complete control of the stick. It came out of my hand. The next thing I know, I'm being hurled through the air and flying through a massive fireball. . . I don't remember hitting the deck but the doc crew said it was a miracle I didn't break my legs."

Mac jotted down the information as best as possible. "I am sorry to ask this, but it's standard procedure." She cleared her throat and sighed. "Was there anything that happened before the flight? Or a few days prior. Anything that stated you weren't mentally prepared?"

Harm sighed, if his bolter was anything to go by, maybe he shouldn't have been in the air. "I recently had a bolter. It isn't exactly detrimental; all pilots will eventually have one if not more." But it wasn't just the bolter. That little spat with Diane had wound him up considerably. Not to say that he was thinking about her in the cockpit because he wasn't, but it had depressed and angered him all at once and those feelings were better kept on the island and not behind the stick of a plane.

"Alright, I think that's enough for now." She placed the note pad into her purse and took the file in her hand. "I still need to question some of the Henry's crew, but I'll be in touch as information comes in." In the distance, thunder rumbled in the sky making her worry about his wheel chaired status. "May I help you inside?"

He cast a jaundiced eye to the heavens and sighed. Bad weather was starting to freak him out somewhat. The last few days when rain had blanketed Maryland, Washington and Virginia, each clap of thunder made him jittery. "Please, thank you." She took off the emergency breaks and wheeled him through the rose garden.

"It's beautiful out here." Mac commented, smiling as she passed through a pathway of bright yellow roses, fragrant, for once.

Harm agreed. "It is. . .I like to come out here to think. Being cooped up in a hospital room is no picnic."

"I can relate. When I was nineteen I was in a bad car accident and spent a little over a month recovering. I was going stir crazy." She kept the details of the accident to herself. It was unwise to tell a client too much about one's secrets. The last thing she wanted Harm to know was about her former drinking habits and how that had caused the death of a friend. She could fully comprehend how he would blame himself for Lieutenant Mace's death. Mac would always blame herself for urging Eddie to drive when he was just as drunk as she was. She rolled him through the hospital in silence until one of the nurses at her station took over the job for Mac. "It was nice to meet you, Commander." She smiled and was taken by the bright smile she received in return. '_Yup, there's that pilot smile.'_ And try as she might, Mac was still smitten by it.

Harm was equally smitten by Mac's smile and the way it lit up her eyes. She was genuinely glad to meet him and he only hoped that if the investigation progressed to something more serious that she would be in his corner. "It was nice to meet you too." And with that, she walked away.

Through most of the day he would find himself pondering the differences between Mac and Diane. To his surprise, Harm found himself anxiously awaiting the Marine's return.

**1530 Local  
****JAG Headquarters  
****Falls Church, Virginia**

"I went through the files as you asked, ma'am. Call me biased, but I think that Captain Kohanek may have doctored some of these. They are just too jumbled." Bud said and handed two folders to Mac. "The bottom folder contains the ones I believe to be genuine."

Mac smiled at her protégée, efficiency had always been one of Bud's strongest points. It allowed her to ignore his clumsiness at times as well as his adoration of little green men. "Thanks, Bud. I'll get right to these."

"Oh!" He exclaimed suddenly. "The Patrick Henry will be in port later this today. . .The powers that be decided to end the tour early. Apparently the damages sustained from the crash weren't able to be repaired at sea. I guess it's a good thing for the investigation."

'_Good for the investigation, bad for the pilot._' Mac thought with a frown knowing that the time lost would also be pinned on Commander Rabb. . .

. . .Harm.

She rather liked that name, it suited him nicely. "You were right about Commander Rabb. He _is_ a good guy."

Bud beamed at her comment. Both he and Ensign Harriet Sims, his wife, had similar feelings for the young pilot. He was one of the general 'good guys' and not so much a jerk like most pilots. "He is, ma'am. . . I really hope we can get him out of this bind."

Mac smiled at the thought. If Bud generally thought someone was a 'good guy' she had to believe him, the man had always been a good judge of character. Finally entering her office, Mac slid into her seat and opened up Harm's service record again. His eyes seemed so alive there, despite the black and white photo. The light seemed to have been turned off when she'd met him earlier.

Sighing, she placed his picture to the side and went through the incident report as filed by the LSO who had witnessed the crash.

**2000 Local  
****Bethesda Medical Center  
****Bethesda, Maryland**

"Ugh." Harm punched his pillow trying to get the lumps out which were causing his neck to ache. He'd been given some medication to help with the insomnia, but it wasn't doing squat. If anything, it left him more lethargic and susceptible to a bad night's sleep. He sighed and winced at the pain the sudden intake of air caused his ribs. "This sucks." He could only sleep on his back, something that was causing a dull ache to the area and a numbness to his butt. The pillows which the nurses shoved around and under him weren't helping much either. He kind of preferred the morphine drip which he'd been on the first few days. But then, the last thing he needed was to become an addict to pain medication, that wouldn't quite sit well with the review board.

Giving up on sleep, he glanced up at the ceiling and thought back to his meeting with Major MacKenzie. Mac. He wondered what she would think if he'd used her real name. "Sarah." It was a beautiful name that fit an equally beautiful woman. The likeness between Mac and Diane was uncanny. But his sudden fondness for the Marine wasn't something that he could indulge on. Much like Diane had been during their years at Annapolis, Mac was off limits. Life sometimes sucked.

A twinge of exhaustion lingered in the edges of his mind and Harm tried to take advantage of it, quickly cursing his inability to turn to his side. "I want my own bed!" He yelled and received an unexpected answer in return.

"With or without me in it?" A female voice said from the doorway and Harm did a double take. Damn, the women really were like twins, differences aside. He silently noted Diane's appearance, the casual clothing of dark blue jeans and a burgundy top which accentuated all of her best assets. She looked as beautiful and tempting as ripe fruit. But he wouldn't bite into that temptation again. Hopefully he'd become impervious to her seduction after their argument, though he very much doubted that he'd resist forever. "You don't look happy to see me." Diane pointed out and entered the room without invitation. She walked up to her former lover and traced her fingers along the contours of his face. "You look tired."

"I _am_ tired." He stated and sighed deeply. Harm couldn't pretend that her touches weren't welcomed; they'd always been despite their rocky relationship. And it had been rocky. They'd made every mistake in the book including seeing other people which had been, in his opinion, the nail that had sealed the coffin for good. "You try sleeping with broken ribs and no morphine. It ain't no picnic." Harm didn't resist when she placed a soft kiss on his lips. Neither did he resist a fleeting thought of how Mac's lips would feel against his own. He frowned at the thought. It certainly wasn't a good thing to have the hots for your lawyer. That was just wrong on so many different levels. Wasn't it? "When did you dock?"

Diane slipped into the guest chair next to his bed but maintained a hand in his own. "Today. Apparently the ramp strike did a number on the ship that couldn't be repaired at sea. Kohanek decided to head home early."

Harm's brow rose in concern. "Two months early? That can't be good." It wouldn't be beneath Kohanek to blame him for having to head to port early. "They're gonna pin that on me."

"Probably. You know that Kohanek doesn't like anyone." Diane wasn't anything if not direct, something that Harm had usually liked, but he preferred if she'd sugar coated his current predicament. "It'll be alright. Have you talked to a lawyer yet?"

"Earlier today, yeah." He grinned at the thought of torturing Diane with the notion of her 'twin.' "She looks like you." She countered with a confused expression. "I mean it, Di. She could be your twin."

She leaned forward and brushed a hand over his forehead. "Just how hard did you hit your head?"

Harm brushed away her hand. "I mean it. She. Looks. Like. You." He punctuated then raised his brows as if trying to make a point.

Diane still glanced at him unsurely, the thought of having a twin wasn't exactly a pleasant one. "How much like me?"

"Well." Harm thought for a moment, conjuring up an image of the Marine Major that made him smile a smile that did not please the Lieutenant sitting before him. "If you two were side by side, I am sure there are a _few_ differences. . .But, you could be her twin, Di." He seemed fascinated by the thought and not because of some secret, male fantasy. Harm honestly wondered if there was a connection between the families. Twins torn apart at birth? It wasn't a far stretch, however, "Your voices are different. The Major's a bit deeper. Her eyes are different from yours, like melting chocolate. Oh, and she has to have some Mid-Eastern blood in her. . There's a tint to her skin that. . .What?" He stopped mulling over the differences when he caught her sickened expression.

Diane cleared her throat and leaned into the chair. She took her hand with her, removing it from his hand where it was laying and onto her lap. "Oh, nothing. . .It's just the first time that you give me such details about a girl."

The fact that she was starting to turn green amused Harm. Jealousy was always a nasty shade on Diane and though she liked to play the field while playing with him, it always bothered her to know of his conquests. "The _Major_," He annunciated Mac's rank keeping it as impersonal as his meeting with her truly was, "is not some _girl_, Di. . .She's a lawyer and if scuttlebutt is true, she's a hardass with one hell of a track record."

"Mmmm. Well, this _Major_ has you flustered." Though she would have never admitted to being jealous, Diane had other ways to play the game and Harm was her favorite partner to play with. "Don't try to deny it, Rabb. I know you too damned well. I know that look."

Alright, so he'd found the Major attractive, was he not allowed to look? "The Major was hot, yeah. And yes, I was flustered, more out of thinking that it was a prank from you."

Diane chuckled at the thought. "Oh, I wished I'd have thought of something like that. . .Lord knows I owe you from all of the crap you and your little boys club pulled at Annapolis." She fell silent for a moment, her thoughts a whirlwind and pointed at the Marine who, apparently, had her face. She knew Harm better than anyone and the expression on his face when he spoke about the other woman worried Diane. Unsure why, she sighed deeply in contemplation. Over a month ago she was putting an end to their relationship and now, she found herself wanting to be around him again.

The breakup was something that she'd seen coming since they had decided to become a couple. Exclusivity never appealed to her as she felt too young to be tied down to one man. Then, there was the ramifications of work and how that would impact them being on the same cruise. She wasn't ready to give up the Navy for Harm or anyone else. Harm, himself, had changed drastically and gone from somewhat of a playboy to more of a serious relationship kind of guy. It was nauseating to her and his romantic overtures made her want to slap him. She missed his adolescent version, the one that had tried anything under the sun to get into her pants. Things were much simpler when she'd had the power to turn him into a sap with just one look. After she'd finally let him sleep with her things had gone down hill in her book. They were at a status quo and though Harm never did anything to either hurt her or the relationship, she despised losing that control over him and decisively turned into a bitch.

Things were never the same since. Sure, they dated, slept together and, when she was at her most needy, actually seemed serious, but it never progressed. At least she had that little bit of control over him, something that she'd coveted. Now, it looked as if she'd be losing that too unless she could find a way to return to him.

"You need help." Diane stated knowing that she was right on the money. "It's going to be hard for you to get around for a while and you'll need someone to take you to therapy." He made to argue and she stopped him quickly. "Really, Harm. I know you want to get up in an F-14 again and the only way to do that is to have someone to help you finish your rehab." Diane knew that the way to this man's heart was through a plane and she wasn't afraid to use that little tidbit. "You get some rest, okay? I'll be back soon. I just need to grab a few things and straighten up my place." She leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead. "While I'm at it, I'll pass by yours, check the mail, water the plants."

"I don't have any plants." He argued just for the sake of argument. Diane was a handful at times but never more so than when she bulled her way into his personal space. She was good at it and though, in the past, it was a trait that he'd found amusing, now it was downright irritating. "And you don't have to bother with the mail, mom's. . ."

"Harm! Your mother has a successful gallery back home to run. She can't be at your beck and call forever. . .Now, I'm going to give her a call and have her give me the keys and let her know that she can go back home. I'll take care of you."

He drowned out anything else she could possibly say and cringed at the thought of Diane discussing anything with his mother. Trish never liked the woman and made it abundantly clear the last time he'd attempted to bring her to dinner. She'd pulled him outside when Diane went to use the head, _'Harmon. . You know I've never really had a say about your girlfriends, but that woman – I have a feeling about her and it's not a good one.'_ Up until that evening, Trish had been longing to spend time with the Diane that her son wrote about from Annapolis. She waited nearly a decade and what she'd found wasn't something to be pleased at. Diane seemed nice enough but upon conversation, Trish felt that the woman had her heart in the wrong place when it came to her son. There was a mirth to the control that she held over him which was disguised with a damsel-in-distress façade. Ever since, she forbade Harm to bring her home again and hoped that her son would wise up and find someone worthwhile.

Trish had mentioned it all in nauseating detail to him, making the thought of Diane phoning a disagreeable one. "Diane. . .Don't call mom, please. She's really taking this hard and feels that she needs to be there for me. Don't take that away from her." He tried to sound genuine despite the fact that he'd asked his mother not to fuss so much over him. Now, it seemed like he was willing to trade the fussing over the reaming she'd offer once she new Diane was back in the picture. "Look, I am sleepy. We'll talk another time."

Diane knew a brush off when she heard one. "Oh, okay." Disappointment tainted her tone and as she stood she tried the 'female pouting' which normally had devastating effects on the opposite sex. "If you don't want me to help. . ."

Harm, for once, was not buying it. "Everything is fine, Di."

She bit her cheek against saying something potentially snarky. Instead, Diane moved forward and planted a kiss on Harm that would have woken a dead man. She broke away with a lick to his lips. "That's just a little something to remind you of what you're missing until you get better." With that, she turned and walked out of the room, swaying her hips suggestively.

"Damn." He wasn't going to pretend that the kiss didn't mean something to him. Diane had a way of seducing him like no one's business. However, his mind briefly flashed back to Mac and a curiosity of how her lips would feel on his own fluttered in his mind again.


	4. I Never Wanted A Twin

**Hello my fellow readers! Moving right along here's the part you guys wanted - Mac meets Diane. **

**Enjoy!**

**Jackie**

**CHAPTER 4** – **I Never Wanted A Twin**

**1002 Local  
****USS Patrick Henry  
****NAS Norfolk  
****Norfolk, Virginia**

Bud gawked at the sight of the carrier. The charred sections of the stern were a clear indicator of just how bad the mishap had been. He cringed at the thought of the chaos that must have ensued after the fireball engulfed the area. "Have you ever seen a ramp strike, Major?" He asked, curious if she'd witnessed the horror of it all.

Mac glanced up at the ship, for all of its might, the vessel wasn't indestructible and mishaps like Harm's often left the ship crippled and its inhabitants as well. "Only on video. This is the second one I've investigated."

"What happened in the first?" They saluted the sailor standing at the gangplank and made their way up to the waiting public affairs officer.

Her first ramp strike investigation was pretty cut and dry. The pilot, as good as everyone believed him to be, had a huge amount of narcotics in his system. It was later discovered that his RIO tried to kill him over an affair with his wife. An affair that was more a figment of the man's imagination than anything else. "The RIO killed his pilot and damned nearly killed himself. All over a girl. Ensign, Major MacKenzie and Lieutenant j.g. Roberts, JAG Corps." Mac returned the salute of the young woman.

"Ensign Maria Thompson. . .Right this way ma'am. Just stick to my six, that's pilot talk for your backside." She exclaimed cheerfully in a manner that reminded Mac of her first encounter with Ensign Harriet Sims. She briefly wondered if Bud acted the same way as PA officer.

They went through the corridors of the ship finally ending up inside the Island at the Captain's helm where Kohanek sat in a fashion that reminded Mac of King Henry VIII. "Skipper, Major MacKenzie and Lieutenant Roberts, JAG Corps, are here."

Kohanek's grunt was the only indication that he'd acknowledged her presence and with that, the Ensign turned on her heel and headed quickly out of the area. The tension was thick and uncomfortable and Mac immediately deduced that the working conditions for the men and women of the Seahawk were none too good if Kohanek was as much of an ass as scuttlebutt had noted. "Lieutenant Roberts, huh? You were a pretty good PA officer. Now you're a legal weenie. Can't say I'm surprised, you weren't cut out for real combat."

Bud decided to let the comment slide, not that he could do much about it but take it like a man. He glanced at Mac through the corner of his eye noting her jaw clenching and unclenching. She was obviously as pissed about the comment as he was.

Mac despised that 'legal weenie' title that JAG officers usually received from those who served in 'real combat.' No job in the military should be ridiculed considering that they were all trained and required to pick up a weapon and kill for their country. In her case, she found it especially annoying. She'd seen combat in Bosnia, taken fire and returned it. It was a memory that she'd wanted to forget and yet one that had toughened her greatly. She'd seen the eyes of her first kill, a young man, possibly in his early twenties with a hatred that didn't extinguish, not even in death. At first she'd been quite pleased at herself and all of the training that she'd suddenly remembered. Afterwards the reality of the situation dawned on her. She'd taken a life, a human life. The man would have likely raped and kill her but it was a life just the same. It would be nearly half a year before the nightmares would stop.

Yes, Mac was a legal weenie, but she was a Marine first and would do anything necessary to protect her country and her fellow service men and women. "Sir, with your permission the Lieutenant and I would like to start holding inquiries at the officers' mess."

"I've already cleared it for you, Chegwidden called about an hour ago. Everyone who had something to do with the incident is still onboard. Shall I have them line up in front of the mess, Major?" Kohanek wanted the JAGs off of his ship as quick as possible. He would be cordial, at least his version of cordial, until Commander Rabb was tarred and feathered and then life in his little world would go back to normal.

Mac wanted to argue that she'd be the one calling the necessary personnel but decided against it. "Yes, sir. Thank you. Permission to carry on?" Once granted, Bud and Mac made a hasty retreat and wound through the bowels of the ship.

When Mac and Bud arrived it was just as she'd expected. The line had around fifty men and women. She greeted them all with a nod and stepped into the mess, Bud closing the hatch behind them. "The skipper has lost his mind." Bud said with a huff, then tossed his cover onto a nearby table.

"He can line up the whole damned ship out there, I really don't give a rat's ass." She stated and then opened up her briefcase to retrieve a small stack of folders. "These are the people we need. Dismiss the rest."

The first person to be questioned was the LSO in charge that evening, Lieutenant Commander Brian "Stag" Cuyler. "This was a horrible accident. It's the second ramp strike I've seen first hand."

Mac was suddenly very interested in Cuyler. She made a note in her writing pad. It wouldn't be the first or the last time, she feared, that an LSO had something to do with a pilot's mishap. She'd once investigated a case on a carrier where the LSO had purposely waved off a female pilot just to get her washed out. "Tell me about it."

"Well, Hammer was coming in fine at first. . .As fine as you could with the storm he was flying through. The decks were pitching something awful, worst I've ever seen it. On his approach I radioed him to call the ball and I faintly heard him say that he couldn't see. . .With the heavy sheets of rain I really didn't think much of it until he started to get closer and I realized that the plane was all over the place. Harm called the ball and he was fine for all of ten seconds. And then the plane went low and off the glide slope. I yelled at him to give the plane more power, but by that time he was seconds away from landing. . ." Cuyler stopped for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd preferred to never speak of the incident again. Not only had they all lost a friend, but a damned good pilot to boot. "Myself and the others on the LSO platform jumped into the net upon impact. . .I lost sight of the plane but the fireball that it created was _huge_."

She could imagine and thanked God that there hadn't been many planes on deck or the whole ship would have turned into a raging inferno. "You mentioned overhearing that Commander Rabb couldn't see, had you ever heard him state anything of the sort before?"

Cuyler shook his head. "No, Major. Harm's a really healthy guy. He's a tri-athlete and even kick boxes. To be honest, I don't know what the hell happened to him."

"Healthy men aren't infallible. High blood pressure. High glucose. Even healthy persons have problems and they can be accelerated with the amount of stress pilots and RIOs put on their bodies." Mac paged through Kohanek's lengthy interview with Cuyler and sought the highlighted portions. "You'd told the skipper about Rabb seeming a bit stressed before the flight."

"Yes and I wish I never mentioned it." The man sighed shakily. He'd hated the comment that he'd made but, at the time, he was still confused over the whole ordeal and didn't take the mishap well. No one did. "Look, we're stressed all of the time on this ship. If it isn't Kohanek with a bug up his six then it's either the Airboss or the CAG. That kind of stress can't be good on the crew and even less on pilots that already have a riskier job than anyone else onboard. Unless there's a major attack to the ship, everyone here is safe. We hurl a 72,000 pound hunk of metal with wings into the air and then catch it in what can be called a 'controlled crash. . ."

Raising a hand to stop the man's onslaught Mac then leaned forward. "I am not here to pick apart Commander Rabb. I want to help him but I need information to do that. . . I know that your jobs are difficult and I know that having an overbearing skipper can not help, but I am trying to find the truth here." She really _did_ want to help Harm and that meant having to go through the nitty gritty of the case in hopes that nothing could sink her case and no surprises came up. "Could his recent bolter have attributed to the 'stress'?"

Cuyler made a face. "Highly unlikely. We train for stuff like that and it's automatic to just get in the plane again. Past some good natured ribbing, we are fine with it. We learn from it. Of course, Reaper was a bit of an ass after it occurred."

Now that was something that she hadn't seen_ anywhere_ in Kohanek's so-called 'thorough' reports. "Come again?"

"Not to disrespect the dead, Major, but Reap wasn't cut out to be inside of a jet. He claimed to love the job and the danger but the moment he got a real taste of it he'd lose the edge. Rabb was the only one who could ever stomach him as a RIO. On this cruise, Reaper had gone through three other pilots before Harm and that's saying a lot considering some of the yahoos that get through flight school."

"So Lieutenant Mace had been upset over the bolter?"

"Not just 'upset', he fucking freaked and he and Hammer had a major fight in the ready room. It came down to fists and Me and Lobo had to separate them. . . I'm surprised you didn't hear about it ma'am. Reaper received a Captain's Mast."

Mac paged through Lieutenant Mace's records certain that she hadn't missed anything. A Captain's mast, though not fatal to your career, was still a major piece of document and it was always one of the first things that sprung at you when looking through the service records. "I'm sorry but I can't seem to find anything that states that Lieutenant Mace had a Captain's Mast."

"Surprise. Surprise." Cuyler snorted in disgust. "Considering who his mother is. . .Shit, it's almost like being back in high school where the little rich boy gets away with anything."

"The Navy doesn't work that way." She defended knowing too well that no branch of the military nor government agency was that squeaky clean.

"I wish that were true, Major."

Mac stared up and gave him a sad smile. Lately, it seemed like no one was above the law.

**One Day Later.  
****1230 Local  
****Bethesda Naval Hospital  
****Bethesda, Maryland**

Harm yawned loudly in a vain attempt to send Diane packing. True to her promise, she had returned and driven him to the brink of insanity. Not to say that he didn't enjoy _all_ of her company. Making out with Diane had been enjoyable, but the silence was awkward and always had been though he couldn't quite understand why. If you care for someone and you wanted to be with them shouldn't even the silence be pleasant?

What he couldn't quite understand was how a woman that had wanted them to separate be so keen on spending time with him. She'd suggested on the carrier for them to be friends with benefits but even that wouldn't be possible until he healed properly. Glancing over, he found Diane sprawled half on the chair, half on his bed pretending to sleep. "Di, go home. I really don't need someone to take care of me."

She popped an eye open and grinned. "Sure you do. Besides, you like my company." She threw her legs off of his bed and stood with a groan. "They should be a little more considerate about people that visit. I can't possibly stay the night on that thing."

Yup, that was the same Diane that he'd met at Annapolis. She'd always been the kind to bull people into what _she_ wanted them to do. Harm was no exception, though he'd always believed that she was different around him. Ever since that argument on the Henry, Harm was seeing her in a different light. "Di, please go." He never was able to get the rest out as her lips met his in a searing kiss.

Harm reacted out of instinct, holding her steady to deepen the kiss whilst his ribs protested her weight on him. It was the doctor who'd stepped in with two unexpected visitors that stopped the make out session. "Commander?"

Hearing his rank, Harm resisted the urge to sit up straight. He peered behind Diane and immediately froze, feeling like a kid who'd been caught doing something wrong. "You have a couple of visitors."

"Major MacKenzie." He smiled at Mac, all the while trying to get Diane off of his bed with a light shove. She remained seated in place, by his side – overprotective (read: possessive) mode was on.

An eerie sensation blanketed the room and all of those within felt the weight of it all. The two women stared at each other, neither able to accept that their likeness was, indeed, a reality.

Bud glanced between the two women, though he'd served with both, he'd chosen to remain silent about their existence, not wanting to put Mac in an awkward place. His mentor was merely standing there, forgetting anything that she was about to say. Everything seemed to be suspended in time save for the doctor who said something unintelligible before walking away.

Mac took a few steps forward and glanced at a version of herself dressed in a pair of black jeans and a grey top that she'd never wear due to how tight it seemed on her mirrored self. The hair on her clone was much different than her own, curling up in certain places and with a darker hue than the red highlights she sported. She noted that the other woman was clutching Harm's hand, anchoring him to her something that made her sick to her stomach.

Diane too was dumbfounded by the discovery. Absentmindedly, she'd taken Harm's hand and held on for dear life, seeking for a safety net to catch her when this crisis was over. Taking a good look she'd found a few differences, one of them being the hue of Mac's skin which gave the other woman a more exotic look than herself. "When you said she could be my twin, you weren't lying." She turned to Harm, pinning him with an angry look as though their likeness was _his_ fault.

Opening and closing her mouth it took Mac a few seconds to formulate something intelligent to say, and even then it sounded utterly formal. "I'm Major Sarah MacKenzie." Mac stuck her hand out and held it there, waiting for the other woman to take it.

Diane hesitated, wondering if the nightmare would end or intensify if her double touched her. "I'm Lieutenant Diane Schonke." She shook Mac's hand awkwardly and released it with a quickness.

Bud cleared his throat. "Lieutenant j.g. Bud Roberts. . .I've served with both of you, sir, ma'am." He nodded towards Harm and then Diane but didn't move. He merely stood next to Mac almost like a body guard. In the two years that he'd worked with the Major, she'd become almost like an older sister. She'd helped him catch the woman of his dreams and, even at the beginning, helped mold him into a true officer. Had it not been for Mac's pushing, he wouldn't have tried as hard as he did to succeed in law school.

"I remember you, Bud. Hell, it wasn't _that_ long ago that you served on the Henry. How's it going for you at JAG?" Harm asked with interest. The younger man was always a bit quirky but exceptional at his job. So was the woman who took over for him, an Ensign Harriet Simms.

"It's going well, thank you for asking, sir." He turned to Mac and nodded slightly, almost as if encouraging her to continue. When she didn't react, he opted to help out and damn the consequences for speaking over a senior officer. "Sir, we have a few questions for you. The Major and I just returned from the Patrick Henry."

The news made Harm frown. It wasn't that he didn't want to cooperate with the case, but he just wanted to be the one person with the least participation. "Alright. . .I guess Kohanek didn't have much to say? Major?"

Snapping out of her trance, Mac's eyes focused on Harm, barely managing to pin her twin with another glare. "Actually neither the CAG nor the Skipper were around much during the interviews. . .I'm going to have to catch them when they least expect me there." Mac motioned to a couple of empty chairs at the far end of the room, away from her twin. "May we?" She and Bud each took a seat. With a deep breath, she opted to ignore the other woman who seemed to be doing much the same to her.

Fine. It was better that way, easier, especially after the little show she walked in on and the little bit of information that she had to share. "I found out that Mace's Captain's Mast was not filed with his service record. In fact, it doesn't exist."

"Then you know about the fight."

Mac nodded, "Yes. . .A witness reported the two of you had to be pulled apart."

Harm sighed. Even with his lack of knowledge into all things legal, he knew that fights were seen as motives. "Reap started to talk a lot of shit about me. . .He said that I was a bad pilot who wouldn't let him do his job. . .I was fine with that, but when he brought up my father, I went ballistic." He hated talking about that aspect of his life, the one detail that was the source of his greatest weaknesses. "Dad was shot down in Vietnam and went missing. . Reaper said something along the lines of Dad being a bad pilot and me turning out like him. . .I lost it and Reaper got the Captain's Mast for instigating the fight."

"Were you charged?"

"Nope. I never understood why, but I wasn't about to question the powers that be."

"Mmmm." Though it was curious as to why neither of the men's records reflected the fight, Mac chose to pull out another argument. This one came at the most inopportune of times. "There was another altercation. . .One of the junior officers we interviewed stated that you and Lieutenant Shonke had an argument before the flight. She said it was pretty heated in fact."

Ensign Maria Thompson, the PA officer had been sitting a little under ten feet away when that particular argument ensued. She'd caught a great deal of Harm and Diane's conversation, but, being the junior officer, wisely ignored it all. The only reason why she'd brought it up under questioning was because she liked Harm and he never seemed to be interested in _that_ fashion.

Diane's grip on Harm's hand tightened painfully. She suddenly felt like a lesser species in the food chain of life. And when Mac's eyes pinned her down, she felt like the accused. "What does that have to do with Harm's accident?"

"Well, that clears up my doubts." Mac said.. She looked up to find Harm with a perplexed expression on his face. She didn't like it, but the questioning was a necessary evil. "What kind of argument was it?" Though she really didn't need to ask, the way that Diane was cajoled next to Harm screamed 'lover's spat.'

"It's personal." He stated flatly refusing to dive into that information and open the wound again. Diane had hurt him. Then again, how many women had he hurt? Maybe it was karma coming to bite him in the ass. "Why does anyone care?"

Sighing, Mac edged forward. "Anyone could take it out of context and make the argument a reason for the crash. It's happened before."

"I'm not an emotional flyer." Insulted, he turned away from Mac and released Diane at once. She _had_ been in his mind before the flight, but during. . .he wasn't too sure. "I never have been."

Mac didn't need anything more than his tone of voice to realize just how 'personal' things between the two officers got. "Where were the two of you during the argument?" She addressed the question to Diane hoping to ease some of the brunt off of Harm.

The woman swallowed to moisten her dry throat. She'd hated lawyers, especially JAGs who seemed only to have it in for good sailors who just wanted a chance to serve. The Major would be difficult to size up considering she was a rank higher than her own. Still, in civilian attire, it was easier to let some things pass. "This is a ridiculous line of questioning. It has nothing to do with his crash."

"Answer the question, Lieutenant." Mac said sternly, the tone of voice saying that she meant business.

Diane shifted off of Harm's bed and stood, crossing her arms defiantly. "It was at the officers' mess and, because I know you were going to ask, there were several people around."

"This has nothing to do with the mishap." Harm interjected, "I was pissed off but not enough for it to impact how I fly."

Mac raised a hand in defense of herself. "I'm just raising questions that the prosecution can use if this goes to trial."

Understanding that it wasn't personal, Harm relaxed slightly. "I'm sorry, Major. . .Flying is everything to me. It's the most important thing in my life. I thought I was damned good at it until this."

"I'll do anything in my power to get you back in the cockpit, alright?" After that promise, Mac continued to question Harm on some of the things that Cuyler had brought up. His details on landing a plane on a carrier were methodic and helped her understand just how much pilots really go through. Diane had been silent during the whole description. The woman looked positively annoyed. She excused herself half way into their conversation and didn't return.

Mac packed away her suitcase and smiled at Harm. "I am not saying it's going to be easy, but I'll find a way to help you out."

"Did Kohanek say anything at all about me?" He asked, mildly cringing at the thought that the man had anything to do with commanding others in the Navy.

"I haven't had a chance to interview him or the CAG." She stated with a frown. Kohanek had done a number on her and Bud, making himself completely unavailable to her. The CAG, too, had been unavailable, supposedly taking a one day liberty off of the ship despite orders from JAG that certain personnel needed to stay onboard until the interviews were conducted. "I'm going to show up unannounced tomorrow."

Harm grinned, "Figuring to sneak up on them?"

"The element of surprise, Commander. It works damned well when you are a lawyer."

"When you're a pilot, too." She extended a hand to his, which Harm took eagerly. The touch was warm and welcomed.

Mac felt a quick zing of electricity that made her blush, though she didn't know why. He too felt it and held her hand for a second too long. It was only when Diane stepped inside of the room that he let Mac go. Without another word, for fear that she may say something stupid, Mac smiled and turned towards the door with Bud on her heals. It was when she reached the hallway that a certain person called to her. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

Diane was at their heals, halting Mac before they had a chance to slip inside the safety of the elevators. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I didn't mean to follow you. I just wanted to make something clear." She took a breath and let it out in a rush. "I care for Harm, a lot, and I hope you aren't planning on pinning this accident on me or some stupid argument that we had."

The defensive method was one that she'd seen before when a person felt guilty about something. "It's obvious that you do care for him, Lieutenant. And I am not that petty to pin an accident on someone who wasn't at fault. I am concerned, however, how a woman could pick a fight with a man knowing that he's about to fly." Her timing was perfect and a second later, the elevator chimed on their floor. "Good day, Lieutenant."

Diane shot daggers at the other woman, noting with disdain that she seemed pleased with the barb that had been shot. "I never wanted a twin." She said under her breath and proceeded to calm herself before reentering Harm's room. He was asleep and thanked God that it would cause a lack of conversation between them.

He really wasn't a bad guy, most women would consider him quite the catch, however she didn't want a future with him. But the present, well, that looked mighty damned good.

Feigning sleep, Harm lay still once the door to his room opened. By the scent of her perfume, Harm knew it was Diane and nearly sighed in regret. Her kisses were potent, her looks were killer and yet, besides anything physical, he was running out of reasons why he wanted to be with her.

At first, it had been the thrill of having someone you couldn't have. If he really thought about it, maybe he was never attracted to Diane in the ways that would make it possible for a real relationship to flourish. No, thinking back, it was always about the physical and never really about the heart. He realized then, with great certainty, that he never really loved her as anything more than a friend. And he never would.

The notion allowed his mind to drift towards the Marine. It was the first time in a long time since a woman had held his curiosity as much as Mac had. The last time he'd been smitten was upon meeting one Diane Schonke at Annapolis. _"Smitten?"_ He thought to himself with a hint of discomfort. He wasn't _really_ smitten was he?

Dear God, he didn't even know the woman. Then again, if in her personal life Mac was anything like the woman with such a passion for the law, she was worthy of his attention.

Come to think of it, being smitten really wasn't that bad after all.


	5. Wet Down

A little late! Sorry about that guys, my annual Halloween Party is coming up so I've been pooling most of my energy into that. :)

Anyway, here we go, a little more progression in the Harm and Mac relationship. grin

Enjoy!

Jackie

CHAPTER 5 – Wet Down  
**1145 Local  
****USS Patrick Henry  
****NAS Norfolk  
****Norfolk, Virginia**

"But, Major!" Lieutenant Bud Roberts wasn't one to shirk his former duties despite the change in rank. He had promised to help Major MacKenzie and though small cases were now part of his workload, he was going to see the Rabb case through – even if it meant being served to the sharks.

Mac spun on her heel and Bud nearly crashed into her as a result. "No 'buts' about it, Lieutenant." She used his rank forcefully, hoping to excite the prowess within him that she'd seen before. Bud had the makings of an excellent lawyer and she was going to make sure that he took control of every situation he was in. "Part of being at JAG means you'll have to go on investigations. And sometimes you will have pain in the ass, son of a bitch to deal with. . .Now you will go find the CAG and keep him away from the skipper. . .They can't corroborate their stories if both men are being questioned at the same time." She shoved a folder his way. "If he refuses to cooperate you will tell him, in your best Naval Officer with a bug up his six voice, that it's a direct order from Admiral Chegwidden. . .If he doesn't comply, he'll be disobeying orders and will be held to the standards of the UCMJ. . .You know? Give him any of our lawyerly sounding."

The lawyerly sounding was fine with Bud, but not when the CAG was a man that you'd served with and had a reputation for eating JAG officers for lunch. "Aye, ma'am."

After ascending into the vessel, the pair went their separate ways. If things had not changed much, Bud knew that the CAG, Commander Henry 'Grunt' Corman would be in the ready room. "Here goes nothing." He said under his breath and then stepped through the open door without so much as an announcement. As he thought, Corman was sitting in one of the oversized chairs watching videos of the landings during the cruise. He held a clipboard in hand, jotting down notes in a frantic fashion. "Commander Corman, if I may have a word with you."

Corman turned slightly, his brow furling at the intrusion. "Mr. Roberts. . .seems you actually made something of yourself after you left us. . .Congratulations." He did not seem sincere at all. "Why the legal weenies though?"

Bud ignored the comment and walked until he was standing a couple of feet in front of Corman. "I have to ask you some questions, Commander." He refrained from using 'sir', something that he noticed Mac often did when dealing with higher ranking officers. It leveled the playing field a bit more. When the senior officer chose to ignore him, Bud pressed on, "It's about the accident involving Commander Rabb."

Snorting, Corman glanced up at the screen, took the remote and began fast forwarding through the video. "Accident, huh? Is that what you think it was Mr. Roberts?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, Commander." He glanced up at the screen watching what he knew to be a night trap. The plane was moving erratically and Bud felt his heart start to race as he realized that Corman was reviewing Harm's crash. Holding his breath, he watched as the plane hit the ramp and burst into flames, it was horrific. "I'll need a copy of that video. . .the JAG office previously requested one and what we viewed had nothing but snow." He noted that Corman had rewound the image and was now playing it in slow motion.

"Sit down, Mr. Roberts." He paused it for a moment, waited for Bud to be situated and then began again. "Scary sight isn't it?"

"Yes." Bud cringed when the plane impacted the ramp and broke apart slowly. "Can you back that up a bit, Commander?" Corman did as told and it was then that Bud saw the tiny explosion of Reaper's ejector seat and then Harm's. After the big blast he saw Reaper flying into the flames. "About the accident. . .Where were you that night?"

Shivering unconsciously, Corman recalled his exact location. He wasn't on the ship that night, but higher above, ready to land after Harm. "I was right behind Lieutenant Commander Rabb, next to land. . .If it weren't for a refueling plane in the area I would have had to ditch the plane into the sea. . .I was nearly bingo fuel." He stated in a tone void of emotion. "Rabb hadn't been flying well before the accident. Besides the bolter, there were a couple of wave offs and a time when he caught the one wire. . . Past that, I have no other information that is pertinent to you."

Bud turned away from the screen long enough to catch a look of distaste on the Commander's face. "_You're_ the CAG. . .There's no one better on this ship with information about a pilot's performance."

"I have nothing else to say, Mr. Roberts, dismissed."

Remembering what Mac had said, Bud stood steadfast. "I am sorry, Commander, but you do not have that authority at the moment. I am here by the orders of the Judge Advocate General of the Navy, Admiral Chegwidden. . .Failure to comply with this inquiry can be seen as a direct violation of section 892, Article 92 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice." Mac would be proud. He spoke the words with the fierceness and conviction of a seasoned litigator.

It was convincing enough that Corman ignored the slight shake to Bud's hand and the fear in his eyes. "Well, Lieutenant, I guess you may be a successful lawyer after all." It was the first time he'd ever used Bud's rank.

At the other end of the ship, Mac had been weaving through masses of steel until she reached the bridge. On the Captain's chair she found Kohanek looking out over the bay as if they were on maneuvers. She took a breath and summoned up the Marine in her to deal with the man. "I need to have a word or two with you, Captain."

Kohanek was not surprised that the JAGs were back, he resented her sneaking up behind him though. "I thought Marines were supposed to sneak up on the enemy, not their allies."

"Marines sneak up on whoever they need to in order to complete the mission"

"That's a good answer. . .but I doubt that a lawyer knows much about missions and such past what's on paper."

Mac ground her teeth and took a breath, she felt the blood rush to her face. Lately, people were starting to piss her off more than ever, especially the old school boys who tended to see the law as nothing more than a nuisance. "Not that it matters, Captain, but I've seen my fair share of combat before joining JAG. . . I served in both Okinawa and Bosnia, _both_ times I've had to shoot in self defense. .I know about missions and about the design of the military in general. . .I am truly sorry if you do not care about the legal aspects of war but it is imperative that we get to the bottom of Lieutenant Commander Rabb's accident." She walked around to his side and dropped her briefcase on the hard floor. "As convening authority, JAG expects complete cooperation."

Kohanek spun his chair to face her. "I thought we had cooperated, Major"

"To _your_ satisfaction, maybe. . . But you gave us so many interviews that neither Lieutenant Roberts nor myself knew where to start. And when we started it seemed like some of the interviews were either doctored or placed in there to throw me off of some sort of scent."

"I don't like those accusations, Major."

"Permission to speak freely?" Mac bit back a smirk when he nodded at her, the man was becoming defensive, a poor move on his part. "I can't apologize. I am under orders to find the truth." She held out a folder with the word 'classified' printed in big red letters across it. "Why was this deemed classified, sir?"

Kohanek took the file and read through the first few lines. He tried not to blanch, but his emotions were shown in any case. "Where did you get this?"

"I have friends in high places." Okay, so even jackass, CIA agents had their uses. As far as she was concerned, Webb owed her into the next millennium and she was going to make sure he paid it in full. "You covered up Lieutenant Mace's Captain's Mast." Out of curiosity, when certain interviews hadn't made sense, she'd asked Webb to look into Mace's record and found three particular sections, all having to do with disciplinary actions, blacked out. The last one was six months prior.

Never before was the captain so glad to be alone in the bridge. Most of the service men and women were on liberty. "He was the only son of Senator Sofia Mace. . .I am not sure if you're familiar with her, _really_ familiar with her, but she does not like the Navy."

"I am aware of that, sir. . .but just because he was the child of a senator does not mean that he has privilege over other service members."

"She didn't want to tarnish his name."

'_You didn't want to tarnish your own.'_ Mac thought and then shook her head. If Senator Mace was sticking her fingers in _this_ pie, then Harm's case had just become more complicated. The classified information would never be used in a military court, Senator Mace would see to it. "I am sure she didn't, but maybe Jason Mace wasn't supposed to be inside the cockpit of an F-14? Did you ever think about that, Captain?" He _had_ thought about it, if his expression was anything to go by. "I just find it _very. . ._enlightening that not a single squadron member had anything nice to say about Lieutenant Mace. . .it was quite the contrary, everyone I interviewed had said that he was a terrible officer and an even worse RIO. He went to Rabb as a last resort."

"Rabb was the only pilot who could handle him." Kohanek revealed with a snort. "So, the kid was difficult? If we had to put aside our duties because someone we work with is difficult, then the military would not exist."

Mac sighed, "You excused Mace's errors but not Rabb's."

"Commander Rabb's ramp strike cost the Navy millions and millions of dollars."

"That may be so, but perhaps that error would not have happened had Mace been grounded and _not_ in Rabb's backseat. . .See, you can't stand errors. You pick and prod at those that are fallible in order to excel your rank. . .I find that disgusting and offensive to the men and women who are here to serve their country, _not_ make you an Admiral. That's why it is easy for you to destroy one man's career to save yourself the embarrassment."

Kohanek hopped off of his chair and came within breathing distance fromMac. He didn't tower over her and with her high heels he pretty much only came nose to nose. "Chegwidden will be hearing about this from me, Major, and you can count on your Marine Green ass venturing to the Aleutians."

"Somehow I doubt that sir. You did allow me to speak freely." Her spunk had been noted through many commands, this time, she was sure it would cost her a reaming from Chegwidden and, more useful, it would show Kohanek that she wasn't someone to be toyed with.

**2020 Local  
****McMurphy's Tavern  
****Washington, DC**

Admiral AJ Chegwidden leaned against the shiny wood bar, raising a frothy beer glass upwards. "Settle down everyone." He commanded and waited for the din to become a low chatter before proceeding. "I've been to a lot of wet downs in my life but never before have I been so proud to have an officer in my staff as I am of Lieutenant Bud J. Roberts. Good luck in the future and I congratulate you on the new promotion, you deserve it."

Mac stood to the right of Admiral Chegwidden, tonic water with a twist in hand, which she raised to toast the newly promoted Lieutenant Roberts. He already begun trying his own cases three days prior, going up against her when his father had been arrested under suspicions of stealing. "You're a worthy adversary, Bud." She said, slapping the man on the back.

He grinned. "I learned from the best, Major."

In the distance a figure stood with a former shipmate and academy buddy, both men holding pool cues as they studied the balls on the table. "Eight ball, corner pocket" He waved the cue towards the pocket and then bent down to take his shot. He glanced up momentarily, to find a perplexed expression on Major MacKenzie's face. It was almost as if it were the first time she'd seen him.

In this instance, he figured that she was wondering what he was doing out of Balboa. He winked at her and then struck the ball with a quick force, sending it bouncing off of all of the bumpers and missing its target completely. "Damnit." He cursed, then reached into his pocket and handed a five dollar bill to his shipmate. He knew why he lost and a certain brunette had a lot to do with it. _Smitten, Rabb._ He cringed at the thought, though it really wasn't _that_ unpleasant. There were worst women to be interested in, although Mac was off limits.

Harm pretended not to notice that she was weaving through the crowd and headed towards him with a satisfied smirk on her face. She wore the smirk well, he noted, unlike Diane who's smirk often reminded him of something sinister. "Oooh, well, aren't you a hottie?" His friend, Jack Keeter, a former Academy and Flight School buddy said as he looked the Major up and down. "Baby, there must be a mirror in your pocket because I can see myself in your pants." It had often been a game of Jack's to flirt with Diane. He knew that the ribbing tended to tick her off but it was fun for him.

"Uh, Keeter, that's not Di. . ."

Often on the receiving end of such statements, Mac just chuckled. "Next thing I know you're going to be asking for my sign?"

Jack grinned at the opening. "Not really, but since you mentioned it – what _is _your sign?"

"Stop." Mac moved close enough for him to smell her perfume but not quite as in reach. She then turned to Harm who had stepped back and watched the interaction with a great deal of amusement. At first, he was going interrupt, but decided to hang back and watch Keeter make a fool of himself. "Commander, nice to see you out of Bethesda."

"Thank you, Major. It's nice to be seen out of Bethesda . .I was sprung yesterday." He stated with a wide grin.

"What's all this "Commander" and "Major" crap?" Jack glanced between the two of them and then stared at Mac intently. "Di, don't tell me you went Jarhead on us!"

"Ah." Mac turned to Harm hoping he would offer then explanation which would likely be better than her own. "Commander?"

Harm sighed, "Sarah MacKenzie this is Lieutenant Commander Jack Keeter, a friend of mine from the Academy and Fight School. Jack's an instructor's assistant down in Fallon." He then turned to a very confused Jack Keeter and patted him on the shoulder. "This isn't Diane and before you ask, no, it's not a joke. No they aren't related and no, we have no idea why they look alike. . .I think that sums it up."

For some reason, Keeter seemed to be the least befuddled of the group. He took inventory about what he knew of Diane and noted that they were two different women. "Well then." Turning into his more charming self, Jack took Mac's hand and kissed the back of it. "Enchanted. . .How _do_ you know Harm?"

"I'm a Marine lawyer from the JAG Corps. I'm investigating the accident."

Turning to Harm he slapped him on the chest, an act that winded his friend slightly. "You ever seen a Marine looking that good?" He was going to mention something else that would potentially embarrass him – something about Female Marines and Energizer bunnies up until a redhead caught his eye across the room. Jack, one could say, was a ladies man. "Uh, Hammer, I'll catch you two later. . .I uh. . yeah. . .Bye Major." He kissed her cheek as if he'd know her all of his life and then crossed the room in several long strides.

Perplexed, Mac stood watching him. She never did quite understand jet jocks. Just when you thought that one of them was normal, you got surprised. "Jack really is a good guy, Major. He's just. . .in love with women. All women." She heard Harm whisper in her ear and then turned to face him. He wanted to say something about her civilian attire - a cute combination of a pink and white baby doll blouse and dark blue jeans with high heels – but he thought better of it. Keeter hadn't exactly set the standard for jet jocks and she _was_ his lawyer. "Care to play some pool?" He offered the cue which she took with fervor. "I'll take it as a yes."

"Oh, I love playing pool." She also most certainly loved the fact that she played the game better than most guys did. It was a product of her misspent youth when she spent countless nights at a pool hall with her trouble maker boyfriend and his crew. "Rack 'em up." He dutifully did as told and Mac's first shot landed the six ball in the side pocket with a clean break that left most of the balls spread out.

Harm let out a low whistle. "Damn, Major. Nice shot."

She was impressed that he didn't suddenly turn into a jerk about it, like most men did. "_Harm,_ I think we can cut the military formality in this setting. Call me Mac." She pointed out and a smile of gratitude from his part stated that he accepted the informality well.

"Alright, Mac." Standing against a nearby wall, he watched as she practically emptied the whole table. The only shot she'd missed was the 10 ball and that was only because someone had bumped into her whilst taking the shot. Mac had been a good sport about it, surrendering the cue to Harm for his chance to redeem himself.

"Commander!" A beaming voice turned his attention away from the billiard game and towards its owner. He grinned as one Ensign Harriet Simms came his way. "How are you, sir?" On the Henry, she'd become Bud's replacement and took over most of the public affairs duties which often had run ins with all of the crew. Harm had been one of the most memorable – the good looking, good guy with the cockiness that came with fighter pilots.

Harm hugged the blond tightly. "I am doing good Harriet and out of uniform it's Harm." He motioned towards Mac in an attempt to introduce her only to be interrupted. "This is Maj. . ."

"Harriet works for the Inspector General who's based on the same floor as JAG. . .She's also Mrs. Bud Roberts."

As if on queue Bud stepped up behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her middle. "Commander, sir. . .It's good to see you out of the hospital."

"It's good to be out. . .Congratulations on the promotion and on your marriage." Who would have thought that the, sometimes bumbling, always dutiful Bud J. Roberts would get married before half of the eligible bachelors on the ship?

Bud smiled. "Thank you, sir." Turning to his wife, he regarded her for a moment. "Honey, I think we'd better go. . .Harriet and I are driving to Ocean City for the long weekend. They have a nice little B&B there." He extended his hand to Harm who took it graciously. "Good to see you again, sir, and I'll be sure to assist Major MacKenzie in anything pertaining to the mishap." He said his goodbye's to Mac and then weaved his way through the crowd and back to the JAG staff who was also heading out.

Harm motioned towards the group. "I guess you have to go too?" He didn't think to hide the disappointment in his voice and it showed even with the sound of the music blaring.

Mac waved at the group as they departed, each going their own way for Memorial Day weekend. She, on the other hand, had no plans other than vegetating for three whole days while fighting her workaholic need to do some investigative work. She needed the rest and relaxation more than anything despite the cases that were pressing to turn her desk into Mount Rushmore. "Nope. . .But I wouldn't mind getting out of here. It's getting a bit too stuffy."

"Sure, there's a Starbucks up the road if you don't mind walking a bit." He suggested. It was fairly early evening and the coffee shop wouldn't close for a few more hours. Harm didn't know why that pleased him but suspected it had to do with spending some non-business time with a certain lawyer.

"That's fine, let me just go and make sure our tab is settled. Meet you outside." She weaved her way through the crowd and towards the bar. Harm took care of his own tab with the waitress that had been serving him and Keeter. He found his friend in an animated conversation with the red head from earlier. "Hey Jack, I'm leaving, buddy."

Jack pulled himself from the redhead enough to follow Harm's gaze which was fixated on Mac who had walked out of the door. "Sorry to leave you alone with the Major, but I figured that you could handle it."

"It was a shock."

"And it still is." He noted the way that Harm was glancing out of the window and towards where Mac was standing, waiting for him. "You _like_ her, don't you?"

"She's investigating my case, Keeter." He rolled his eyes in hopes that it would keep his friend from assuming more although it was sort of odd for him to leave a bar with his lawyer, who happened to be a very attractive woman, in tow.

Keeter snorted. "Yeah, whatever. The Major's pretty and she seems nice enough to let a jerk like me flirt with her. She took it well." His friend confessed with a lopsided grin.

"You just hate that Diane never banters back, she just puts you in your place."

Snorting again, Keeter excused his 'date' and stood up next to Harm. "Diane's a _bitch._ I've never liked the broad and frankly, in case I haven't told you lately, I don't like the shit she's done to you. Harm, you deserve better considering you've been pining after her like a dog in heat since the Academy. All she does is use you when she needs you and then kicks you to the curb - in case I haven't told you lately."

Keeter had never liked the woman and often stated his dislike to his friend. Diane was not nice, but when someone was in love (or thought they were) perceptions tended to change greatly. "I know. I know . .By the way, I think it's over for good this time." He stated with a conviction that, for once, rang true.

"Yeah, that's what you said the last sixteen times you broke up. Take my advice, ditch Schonke for good and don't let her coy little smile wrap you around her little finger again." He patted his friend on the back and then slid back next to the redhead.

"I'll do that." Harm agreed and then headed outside where Mac had been patiently waiting for him.

The walk to Starbucks was pleasant with few stops to look through store and restaurant windows. After arriving at their destination and ordering their drinks, they fell into overstuffed lounge chairs, a small table dividing the space between the two. Mac sipped from her caramel macchiato and Harm from his cappuccino. "So how come that friend of yours is an instructor and the Navy's best is _still _actively shooting off a carrier?" Mac asked, her smirk hiding behind the brim of the glass.

"Hah. 'Navy's best.' I really wish people would stop saying that about me."

"I've seen your service record, even the classified stuff. . .You're quite a brilliant pilot." He was a man to be envied, not everyone became the Navy's poster boy. "You should be proud of it."

Harm shrugged. "I do what I do because I love flying. Not for the recognition or the medals. Anyway, Keeter served in Desert Storm with me. He got picked to teach at Fallon and I didn't. . .Despite his. . ." He trailed off for a moment, seeking the correct word, "charms . .Keeter is a good guy and an excellent pilot. At one point, back at the Academy, I couldn't hack it anymore. . .went UA. . .Keeter brought me back."

Mac wanted to tell him about the information she'd been privy to – Harm had recently been added to the promotion list and was likely to become one of the new instructors at Fallon. The mishap had put a damper on the situation. "He _does_ sound like a good guy. . .Right now, my closest friends are Bud and Harriet. . .I keep in touch with _some_ of my friends back home but, it's not the same."

"Where's home?"

"Lots of places. My father was a Marine so we moved around a lot, but I was born in Arizona and that was the last place I lived before joining the Corps."

Harm nodded. "I am a California boy, born and slightly raised here. . .There were a few years that mom and I lived in Pennsylvania with my grandmother, though."

"What about your father?"

His brow rose up in question. Just how many people knew about his father? Then again, she was investigating his case, it was likely to be all in his record. "It's all in my record isn't it?"

"What is?" Mac asked, wearing a confused expression.

Sitting up straighter, he placed the half empty cup of coffee on the table between them. "About him going down in 'Nam. . . me following at age sixteen?"

Shaking her head, "I read though all of your service record and there's no mention of anything pertaining your father." Mac remained silent for a moment, watching as a myriad of emotions played on his facial features. He was suffering, she could tell and if his father went down in Vietnam, by her calculations, Harm had to have been four or five or so. "By your expression, I assume he's MIA?"

Harm swallowed. "I really don't know what happened to him. . .When I was sixteen I got this information that a former Colonel named Striker was searching through Laos for POWs. Or at least, for information that they'd either died or were being held captive somewhere. So I ran away, headed off to join the search and nearly got myself killed." He paused for a moment, deciding not to delve too much into that particular part of his past. Though he hadn't been killed, a friend of his, a young girl named Jym, had been shot by boarder patrol. To this day, he still blamed himself. "Anyway, the Academy had trouble accepting me because of that news. . .It took some fancy footwork from my dad's former wingman to even get me an interview."

Mac cleared her throat, it was the only action that hinted at the barrage of emotions playing within. She couldn't imagine ever being _that_ brave at sixteen. Then again, she had her own brand of bravery that came only through the taste of liquor on her lips. "It's funny how we grow up. . .At sixteen I was hanging with the wrong crowd, stealing cars and drinking too much."

"Somehow I can't picture you doing that." He said, a twinge of amusement in his voice though he knew that Marines had a knack for breaking down the trouble makers and rebuilding them to a functional human being.

She chuckled. "I wasn't always a straight laced jarhead, Commander." Mac took a sip of her coffee and let him in on a secret of hers. "It's the reason why I don't drink anymore. . .I'm a recovering alcoholic. . .Haven't had a drink since I was nineteen."

Harm was impressed. Most persons with that particular addiction recovered only to fall off of the wagon again. "How to you fight the temptation to drink while at a bar?"

Mac nodded. "It's either stay sober or risk losing everything that I have. . .I think my career and my life is worth more than a drink or two. . ." She paused momentarily, recalling the reason why she dried out in the first place. "I probably would have still been drinking had it not been for the accident. . . My best friend, at the time, and I had graduated High School and decided to go on a drinking binge. . .And then he decided to drive. . .Eddie died and I was hurt pretty bad. . .My mother's brother – Uncle Matt, he came to the hospital, helped me through the recovery and then took me out to the desert to dry out. . .Haven't had a drink since then because of him."

"Sounds like a good guy."

"He's the best." She said with a watery smile. "He's in Leavenworth now for stealing the Declaration of Independence."

Eyes widening, it occurred to Harm who Mac was talking about. He remembered watching on TV as a Marine Colonel O'Hara and his team, the Defenders, spoke about reclaiming an American dignity that had long since disappeared. "I remember that. He was all over ZNN. . .I agreed with a lot of what he said. . .I'm sorry he's in Leavenworth, Mac." If they were closer, he'd have placed a comforting hand on hers, even so, their eyes touched and Mac could feel the comfort even though they were a few feet apart.

"Thank you." She swiped at a lone tear and finished off her coffee with a swig. "Can I ask you a personal question?" It had been bugging her for the last couple of days though it really wasn't any of her business. At his nod, she took a breath and offered up a bit of her insecurities on a platter. "Just what is your relationship with Lieutenant Schonke?"

The question was _so_ direct it almost made his head spin. One moment they were discussing the follies of their youth and now. . . "Uh. . .well." A good look at Mac revealed something that made him pleased. An expectant glance shot his way with what he could swear was a twinge of green. Could Mac be jealous of Diane? The notion was wonderful. "Diane and I _were_ together." He emphasized the word 'were' making it abundantly clear that it was past tense. "She and I broke up the day of the accident, but in reality, we've never really been a couple." He thought about what Keeter said, the constant on again, off again that was his relationship with Diane. Why hadn't he really seen it before? Why did it take him the introduction of Diane's 'twin' to understand just how destructive his relationship with Diane had really been? "I liked her when we were at the Academy and we really couldn't date, so I waited until our last year. . .I mean, there's something about having someone you shouldn't or can't have. . .We've been on again, off again, ever since. . .Different careers, different continents, different cruises. . .After the mishap she was just. . .I think she felt guilty about baiting me into a fight before I flew."

"So you miss more than you connect?" Though that wasn't quite what Mac wanted to hear. Even upon meeting Diane for a few minutes the day she'd interviewed the two of them, she hadn't liked what she'd seen. There was an aggressive possessiveness that truly disgusted her. Furthermore, she disliked the uncomfortable look on his face as Diane clung to him like a leech. "It happens."

Harm shook his head. "No. . .This is different. . .I mean, Diane has her agenda. . .One moment she's with you, the next she's not. . .But, the second another woman starts to show interest in me, she gets territorial. When she wants something from me, she's there, smothering me." He finished his coffee and placed the cup on the table. "I honestly didn't realize it until a recent conversation with Keeter. . .I finally saw who she really was. . .Sometimes I feel like she wants me only to make me miserable."

Mac had never heard such a detailed reason for a failed relationship. Usually it was the same old 'we fought a lot – don't have the same things in common – he's an ass – she's a bitch – I hate him/her, he/she had an affair.' Never has a man as accomplished as Harm stated with such clarity what he felt inside. But there was something else that was bothering her, a notion that she couldn't shake which made her fear for his safety. "I know this isn't the time or the place to discuss your case but. . .could Diane have had something to do with the mishap?"

The question seemed to be tossed in from deep left field at the most unexpected of times. "I don't understand what you're asking."

"Let me rephrase it – do you think she had something against you which could cause her aim for revenge or sabotage?"

"No." He said quickly. Whatever Diane was, she wasn't a murderer, nor was she the type to get involved in sabotage. "Diane loves her country and the Navy, she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. ..It was one of the reasons we never connected. . .We both refused to accommodate our jobs for one another. . .Why would you ask that?"

Mac shrugged. "Just covering all of my bases." She lied knowing full well that this gut feeling she had about Diane wasn't a particularly good one. "Anyway, let's change the subject. . .How _is_ rehab going?"

Harm let it drop reluctantly. He wasn't upset at Mac's snooping but rather worried about Diane's sudden need to be there for him. The tender love and care was starting to annoy him which was much the reason why he begged to be let out early. At least now he could disconnect the phone and the doorbell, hide out in his bedroom and ignore the pounding of the front door – like he did all day with the aid of his stereo. It was only a moment in time when Diane would catch up to him though. "That's going well. . .Just a few weeks more and I should be one hundred percent. . .The ribs still hurt and my knee is giving me problems, but they figure it will be e full recovery."

"It didn't hurt your pool game any." She teased.

"What pool game?" He said with a chuckle so infectious that it caught on. Harm hadn't really seen her laugh or smile the way she was doing now. It was breathtakingly beautiful and he found himself wanting to hear her laughter again. "You should have seen my first shot of the night. I nearly whacked a waitress over the head when the cue ball went flying off of the table."

She laughed again, this time with more feeling than before. No doubt she was imagining the sight. Harm's heart fluttered a little. Her laughter was music to his ears. "What would you be doing if you hadn't joined the Corps?" He didn't care where the conversation led as long as she kept talking to him.

A tiny grin and his heart fluttered so much that he nearly pressed a hand to his chest. "That's a good question. . . Probably a paleontologist. . .I do a little amateur work." The word brought up memories of walking through Red Rock Mesa with her Uncle Matt searching for remnants of dinosaurs.

"Wow." He smiled, imagining Mac with a small shovel and a brush going through fossils. "How'd you get into that?"

"Uncle Matt. . .we used to head into Red Rock Mesa and look for ichnites."

"Ich-what?" The positively perturbed expression on his face was almost comical.

"_Ichnites_. Dinosaur tracks. Much more fun than hunting their bones; the tracks tell a story. Were they hunting, running, playing?"

"Never thought about Dinosaurs playing."

Mac shrugged, "It's not too hard to imagine. . .It's really amazing though, one summer the tracks are hidden, the next, they'll appear almost out of the blue. Nature's cruel and amazing that way." She bit her lower lip, considering her dear uncle and that the next time she would see him free wouldn't be for another ten years. "Anyway, what about you? If jet fuel wasn't in your blood, what do you think you'd be doing?"

Harm hadn't ever really thought about another profession. As far as he remembered he'd wanted to be a jet pilot, just like his father. Nothing else really called to him. "I never really thought about it. . .I am one of those guys that has the Navy ingrained into my DNA. . .My mother wanted me to be a lawyer. . .and my grandmother wanted me to be a doctor. I never entertained either notion."

"When I was younger, I would have never seen myself as a lawyer and now. . .it's what I am and what I love. . .there's a rush when you are picking someone apart on the stand, knowing that you're going to win. . I enjoy every aspect of it."

"Even when you lose?"

Mac chuckled. "Okay, maybe not _every_ aspect. . .Losing is not so much a difficult thing for me, but more so for the fate of my client. . .Though, there have been some clients that. . .I hate to say it, I am glad I lost."

"Must be hell trying to prove someone is innocent when they aren't."

She shrugged again and sighed deeply. "Part of the job. Besides, it's not all bad, we get to meet some really interesting people. . .I got to meet the Navy's best pilot." She smiled at him in earnest, an action that lit up her eyes in such a way that Harm's defenses went down a notch.

"You have a beautiful smile." The thought wasn't meant to be said out loud and yet, Harm didn't regret uttering it.

Mac's cheeks tinted a soft pink which lit up her features even more. Their conversation had been pleasant and she'd been fighting off the little butterflies in her stomach at his want to know more intimate details of her life. "Your smile's not so bad either." She covered up with her own compliment which did nothing to hide how flustered she suddenly was. Grabbing her empty cup, she stood suddenly. "I have to get going. . ."

Harm stood with her. "I didn't make you uncomfortable did I?. . .I appologi. . ."

"No." Yes. Due to the current status of their relationship, Mac needed to treat the case with the most decorum possible and ignore the strange tug at her chest that she'd felt from day one. "It's a long weekend, but I still have work to do." She lied knowing that her weekend plans meant vegetating with DVDs from Blockbuster and a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. She smiled at him, though this time it didn't really light up her eyes.

"I understand . .Have a good weekend, then." Harm shook the hand that she offered and watched her leave. He then sunk back into the large chair and huffed out a breath. Life really did suck sometimes. Just when you met someone who could captivate you with a smile, they turned out to be unavailable. "Story of my life."

Mac hurried to her car and slid behind the wheel, closing the door to the relative safety that she felt. "Not again." Two of her former boyfriends had decided her fate with men. Dalton, the upper class lawyer who she thought was a good guy, had turned out to be a scumbag who stole a file from her apartment. It nearly jeopardized her career and the case. Signaling the end of their relationship, it was CIA jackass, Clayton Webb who picked up the pieces, or at least tried to. Mac saw that relationship as the biggest mistake of her life. Clay was a self-serving jerk and she was the trophy girlfriend. Thank God that she never let it move from anything more than dating. Mac would have shot herself if she'd been vulnerable enough to let the spook into her bed. "Amen for that." Still, the trend in her life of wanting the absolute _wrong_ man seemed to be never ending.

In this case, she didn't think that Harm was a bad guy, quite the contrary, he was one of the good ones. A catch. Despite their small conversation, she believed he was someone she could confide in, the type that would listen to her secrets and confess some of his own. He looked the type to fiercely protect those which he loved. It was a shame really, to meet someone who was damned good looking and had a good heart to boot. A damned shame that she was working his case and likely to be named his attorney. Mac had a feeling that if she wasn't appointed, Harm would request her.

"Damn." All she had to do was ignore her feelings and concentrate on the case. However, with looks as good as Harm's, that was easier said than done. "God help me."


	6. Unarranged Meetings

**A zillion apologies on the massive delay with this one. I had misplaced it and on top of that, have been too busy to check over the betaed chapter. And when I mean busy I mean BUSSSY. Problems with work, files gone missing, labels to print for 771 products, companies to contact, training to do, customers to please, employee arguments to settle and our boss was in town which always leaves our staff a bit… out of sorts.**

**So yeah, combine that with little sleep and… I ran out of coffee. NO COFFEE. Me without COFFEE. Life is just… wrong. See, I am one of the freaks that can down two mugs of coffee right before bedtime and sleep just well. Actually, I sleep better if I have some coffee. Black, no cream or sugar. I see a coffee commercial and I have to have a cup…. Okay, it's okay… 8 hours until I am at work and can get some coffee. YIPPEE!!! **

**8 hours?! What the hell am I still doing up?! Goodnight people and enjoy!**

**Jackie – No coffee?!?!?!?**

**Chapter 6 – Unarranged Meetings  
****0934 Local  
****Saturday  
****Whole Foods Market  
****Washington, DC**

Mac pushed her cart past the produce section and heaved a sigh. "Would have been nice if I'd thought to buy groceries _before_ holding myself up in the apartment for the weekend." She complained to herself causing a few curious eyes to turn in her direction. It was Saturday morning and her plans to vegetate came to a staggering halt upon realizing she was out of sustenance. A loaf of stale bread and left over pizza just didn't make for good eating. So she figured, if she was going out, she may as well buy groceries for the next two weeks as she normally did.

"Mmmm." Glancing at a case of luscious strawberries, she decided on a fruit salad, made only of berries. She could buy raspberries, strawberries, cherries, blueberries and blackberries and combine them all with a little low fat vanilla yogurt. Later she would swing by Ben & Jerry's to pick up a pint each of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough and Chunky Monkey.

An hour later she was waiting in line at the check out when someone called out to her. "Major MacKenzie." Mac knew that voice but wasn't sure where to place it. Considering that she had the weekend off the last thing she wanted was to spend it with someone else or dealing with someone else's problems. So, even though she knew it was futile, Mac ignored the person. Instead, she reached for a magazine off of a rack and pretended to be thoroughly enthused. Hearing her name again, Mac cursed the man in front of her with his coupons and silly flirting with the girl at the checkout. "Major MacKenzie?" This time there was a tap on her shoulder along with the call.

Upon turning around, Mac felt like she was looking into a mirror. Despite meeting Diane Schonke, the likeness still shocked her. Apparently, the other woman felt the same if the look she wore meant anything. "Lieutenant Schonke." She regarded her 'twin' with a polite nod and half a smile - it was all she could muster.

"Out of uniform it's Diane, please." She offered a hand which Mac took begrudgingly. Diane took a glance over at Mac's collection of groceries. "Nice to have a long weekend, isn't it?"

Though Harm had vehemently sworn that a relationship between the two was over, Mac still had a thought of the pair spending the long weekend together. She wasn't sure why she cared or why the thought made her slightly sick to her stomach. Yes, Rabb was a good looking guy, but she'd taken plenty of cases with good looking guys, none of which made her feel. . . she shook her head of the thought. She didn't _feel_ anything for Rabb other than concern for a client, that was all. The last thing she needed was to fall in love with the guy or something silly like that. "Shit." She said out loud when the magazine she was pretending to read slipped from her fingers and fell to the linoleum between her feet.

"Woops. I'll get it." Diane bent down to pick the magazine up and then handed it back to Mac. "Are you alright, Major? You seem a little dazed there."

Mac was more than just _a little_ dazed. The notion of even thinking about falling for a client was a huge no no in her book and any code of ethics that lawyers, in general, lived by. "I'm. . .fine, just tired." She countered and then took a breath. Trying to busy herself and maybe ignore Diane away, she began placing her items on the counter for the girl to ring up.

"Here." Diane's hand came out of no where, handing a card to the checkout clerk. "It's a discount card." She turned to Mac and smiled with earnest. "I come here all the time when I'm back home. I live near Rose Park."

_Oh, great. I bet we'll be bumping into each other all the time now. Goody!_ Mac thought, biting back a cringe. "Thank you, Lieu. . .Diane." She corrected herself before the other woman did. Although every fiber in her body was telling her not to, Mac decided to toss her twin a bone. "You can call me Mac. . .out of uniform and off base that is."

The news seemed to please Diane greatly if her bright smile was any indication. "Thanks, Mac. . .Listen, would you like to have lunch with me?"

Yup, that would be the one reason why her gut told her to leave well enough alone. The moment you gave a junior officer the right to get 'chummy' with you, all bets were off. "Lunch?"

Diane nodded. "It's the meal between breakfast and dinner. . .Oh, I know it's a little early. There's a cute little pizza place just up the road."

Something told Mac that the run in was a little more than coincidental. Maybe it was fate's way of kicking her in the ass again. "May I ask why?"

"To be honest, I am curious about you. . . and why we look so much alike." She smiled but it was neither genuine nor welcoming for someone trying to 'dig' into another person's life. "I'll meet you there in an hour, it'll give you time to take your groceries home." With that, the woman walked away, not so much as waiting for Mac to respond.

The cashier, who had heard bits and pieces of the conversation just shook her head. "Sucks to see twins not getting along."

"She's _not_ my twin." Mac stated and only received some sort of chuckle from the young girl.

"Yeah right."

An hour later she found herself sitting at a bench across from the twin she never had and never really wanted. "So, brothers and sisters?" Diane asked once they'd been settled in and their drinks had arrived at the table. She stared at Mac with interest.

Mac took a sip of her iced tea, slightly concerned that Diane ordered the same thing. "Neither. . .I'm an only child."

"I have four brothers. . .three older than me and all in the Navy. My youngest brother, Robbie, he's a middie at Annapolis. He's going into crypto. . .The other three are scattered between one submarine, an LHA and a frigate. We all love the sea. Almost everyone in my family has been in the Navy." The rambling was a nervous trait of hers which she'd hoped would have passed as she grew older. "Where are you from?"

For the moment, Mac took the 'girlie' talk in stride though she'd much rather be at home going through rented movies from Blockbuster and relaxing in front of the couch. Somehow, four day old pizza didn't look so bad right about now. "Born in Arizona, then we moved around a lot. My father was a Marine."

"Was?"

Mac nodded. "He passed away earlier this year. . .my mother and I don't keep in touch." She said quickly, hoping to avoid the question which she sensed would come.

"I'm sorry." It was, perhaps, one of the first sincere statements that Diane had made. "I assume you have some Persian in you?"

"Ava, My grandmother on my mother's side was Iranian." When Mac was younger she found it odd that she looked so differently from her parents. The same thought that crossed her mind as a child held her thoughts back momentarily – maybe she had been adopted. Maybe the woman sitting across from her _was_ related in some way. If that were so, she didn't feel anything special about Diane like so many people who had been separated from their families did.

Then she recalled a picture of Ava, the woman who she resembled so much it was uncanny. Ava, in her youth, had looked much like Mac save for the shape of her eyes and nose. She had married an Irish-American named Edgar O'Hara. Together, they had two children – Deanne and Matthew - but the Iranian gene hadn't been passed on to either of them. Matt and Deanne looked very much like their Irish father. Mac didn't seem to inherit a single gene off of either of her parents. She sighed at the memories and quickly put them to bed. "I think if it wasn't for your skin tone being so different from mine, I would have thought I had a twin somewhere. Kinda like 'The Parent Trap.'"

'The Parent Trap' was a Disney classic staring Haley Mills who played both Susan and Sharon, twins separated during infancy when their parents had decided to divorce. Years later, while at camp, the twins meet and formulate a plan to bring their parents together. "I have to admit, it was very odd seeing myself when I looked at you."

"It's still odd." Diane said with a frown. "Skin tone and all. . .you still look a lot like me." She'd asked her parents, repeatedly about anyone in the family resembling her. She'd even gone as far as to call her Aunt Dory which was now leaving in Vancouver with her husband and children. "My mother said I was crazy. . .Dad just laughed. . .I should send them a picture."

"Mmm." Mac wasn't so lucky. Her mother was as good as dead and Uncle Matt was at Leavenworth. The last thing she wanted to do was bother her Uncle and worry him over such a trivial matter. "What's your blood type?"

"AB Positive according to my dog tags." She grinned. "You?"

Mac breathed a sigh of relief. At least, where blood was concerned, they were quite far apart. "O Negative."

Diane too seemed to be relieved with the news. "No O's in our immediate family that I know of. . .So I guess we really aren't related." She smiled brightly and thanked the waitress who had arrived with their plates of food. After a first bite of her lasagna she decided to press onto a more challenging subject. "What do you think of Harm?"

Unprepared for that turn, Mac nearly turned purple trying not to choke on the tea that was now burning its way up her nasal cavity. "Uh." She took her napkin and blotted her face with it. "He's. . .he seems like a good guy." She said quickly whilst mentally cursing herself at acting so out of control.

"He _is_ a good guy. . .Too good, I think." Diane preferred the bad boys, but there was something about Harm that always had her coming back. "He has this bad boy streak in him, but he is inherently good. . ..Harm's superhero complex drives me up a wall."

Having had her fair share of bad boys, Mac didn't quite understand what Diane was looking for in a man. If it was just a roll in the hay, there were others in the Navy and outside of the service who would likely be willing and able. "I like the type of guy who _used _to be into motorcycles and leather jackets and now wears a suit. . . or a uniform."

Though the last bit was uttered under her breath, Diane heard it clearly. She couldn't help but shoot back with a barb, "A pilot's uniform?"

Mac's eyebrow rose in annoyance. She was about to defend herself and give that 'client and attorney relationship is strictly professional' crap, but she knew that it would make her seem too defensive. Instead, she bit eagerly into her pizza and polished off the slice before commenting. "I'm partial to Marine Greens myself." And she left it at that for Diane to chew on. It was interesting though to see what Diane thought of her and it was clear that she wasn't happy at her involvement in Harm's case. "Back to the Commander, I am quite concerned about his case."

"Oh?" That had peaked Diane's interest for nothing more than her being nosy. "Is something wrong?"

"Lieutenant Mace's mother is what's wrong. . .She doesn't like the Navy much. I am just afraid she'll put this all on Commander Rabb and that wouldn't be fair." She wasn't giving away any information that people didn't already know. Senator Mace had often come out on ZNN with her want to push bills that took money away from the military.

"Yeah, so much for our government helping out. . .Pisses me off when people like that have the power."

"I agree." Mac's attempts to remain chummy with the other woman turned a corner quickly. She saw an opening and took it. "Where were you during the mishap?"

Diane glanced up with a question in her eyes. "In my bunk, reading. . .Why do you ask?"

"No reason. . .I was just curious why Kohanek seemed to have statements from so many people but yours wasn't there."

"Why should it be?"

Mac shrugged. "Mainly because other officers had seen you and Rabb arguing less than an hour before he shot off the deck. . .Maybe because two enlisted men on Vulture's Row claimed to have seen you there."

Diane blanched at the statement. "I was in my bunk, Mac." Her voice dripped with annoyance at being doubted on her whereabouts. "I _was_ on Vulture's Row for a little while but headed inside because the wind was giving me a headache. But, I was definitely in my bunk during the crash. . .It scared the hell out of me."

Something about Diane's story never added up to Mac. Why had Kohanek questioned so many people and yet, none of them had mentioned Harm and Diane's argument until Cuyler? And why hadn't Cuyler told the Captain? If Kohanek was such a ball buster as he seemed, that stone would have been unearthed during the thorough questioning. "You do realize that the prosecution will pull you up to the stand because of the argument, don't you?"

If possible, Diane turned even whiter. "What? Why?" She nearly choked on the tea.

"It goes to the pilot's state of mind before and during the flight. . .The prosecution can say that Rabb wasn't ready to pilot a plane due to the argument and so he should have asked the CAG to ground him for the day. . .Hell, if it were me, I would claim that Commander Rabb was trying to commit suicide because the woman that he loves broke up with him." There are many interesting things inside a lawyer's bag of tricks. If they were any good, the moment one theory was shot down, another would be brought to life. Mac just prayed that she wouldn't wind up as prosecution on this particular case. Her own thoughts were starting to scare her.

'_The woman he loves broke up with him.'_ Diane was tempted to ask if Harm had commented anything of the sort. To her recollection he'd never once told her that he loved her. She assumed he did but Harm wasn't very verbal with those kinds of emotions. A man with his looks didn't need to say 'I love you' to get a woman into bed either. "What's love got to do with anything?"

"Love is an antidote to instincts." She remembered Chegwidden telling her that once when she prosecuted a case of a Marine Sergeant in love with a Mossad spy. The Marine had claimed to never have given up military secrets and, in the end, the whole thing had been some CIA plot. The woman was a double agent.

"Harm wouldn't fly poorly because of some fight."

Mac sprinkled parmesan over her second slice of pizza. "Mmm. I've had clients sell military equipment to the enemy for the love of a woman. . .Nothing surprises me."

"You are talking as if he were guilty."

"No. I am talking like a lawyer who considers all possibilities to avoid being blind sided." She loved a good cheese pizza and the garlic rolls were to die for, that had been the best parts of the whole meal. The company could have been better, though she put to rest any demons of sharing a family with Diane.

Diane gripped her tea cup just a little tighter. She hated to be caught in the middle of Harm's stupid accident which is why she discussed the matter with Kohanek just after she'd peaked into sickbay to find Harm's unconscious form laying on a gurney, waiting to be transported off of the carrier. It wasn't news to anyone that they had dated but no one had really cared enough to make a fuss about it, except Kohanek who had asked the pair to keep their relationship troubles off of the ship.

What she had done to keep herself out of his reports was nothing short of blackmail. The false claims of sexual harassment that she threatened Kohanek with were enough to buy his silence. She didn't think to contend with the few other officers in the mess that day. "I'll be honest, I really _do not_ want to be involved in this."

"Well, you are whether you like it or not." Mac's tone of voice left very little room for argument. "It's a big deal that some lawyers will base the whole case around. Trust me on that."

Diane sighed deeply, "Look, our relationship has _never_ been a big deal. . .We've. . .had fun. . ." She trailed off, a Cheshire smile spreading across her lips. "He's _incredible_ . . .If you get what I mean."

Mac 'got' the not so subtle innuendo and resisted the urge to cringe. "Loud and clear, thank you." She polished off her plate leaving only a few crumbs. Peaking at Diane's plate, she found much of the meal still intact. "Not hungry?"

"I don't eat much. . .Have to keep my girlish figure. . .I'm surprised that such a straight laced Marine had _all that_ to eat." Diane said, with a hint of humor in her voice. She could imagine Mac having to work out double in order to pound the extra pizza slice out of her system. "You'll probably work it off tomorrow, I'm sure."

The one good piece of Mac's life had been her diet. No matter what she ate, her weight wouldn't change much. She still needed to work out in order to maintain the muscle tone on her body, but she could wolf down a few burgers and it wouldn't affect her ass or thighs. God may have given her a rough life, but he provided her with the ability to have a healthy body. "Actually, no. . . .According to my doctor, I have an accelerated metabolism. . .I don't gain weight."

"I see. . .Well, I better get going." Without much fanfare, Diane pulled out a twenty and placed it on the center of the table. "Have a good day, Mac."

"You too, Diane." She smiled only to seem pleasant, but pleasantries would come to an eventual end if Harm's case got as far as Mac believed it to. Sighing deeply, she prayed for a miracle that would keep Diane off of the stand. The woman was liable to blow a hole in Harm's case and then some.

**0745 Local  
****Sunday  
****Rock Creek Park  
****Washington, DC.**

One foot propped up against the front bumper of his Vintage Corvette, Harm bent down to tie the laces of his running shoe. It was silly for him to decide to run considering that his ribs still bore pain when he did certain activities. He would be damned if he ever listened to a thing that anyone in the medical profession ever said. With a sigh, he glanced at the wooded area before him and the small path that led to the running trail.

Rock Creek Park had been his sanctuary away from life in general. He always found that a good run helped maintain his perspective on things. "Alright, Hammer." He glanced down at the paved road with minor trepidation and pushed off. Trotting lightly, his feet gently pounded the pavement, trying to remember an act that now felt so foreign. He'd always been a good runner, learning to go the distance when he'd joined Track in High School.

Harm hadn't taken into account that the pain to his ribs would make his body practically _beg_ for air. No more than two minutes into his run, he was hunched against a tree, trying to force his body to breathe normally. His therapist had said it would be a while before he was one hundred percent. Perhaps he shouldn't have spent his whole Saturday laying in bed.

Sighing, he pushed himself away from the tree opting to walk a bit rather than jog. It was then that he spotted a familiar face and for a moment, he nearly ran the other way. _'Diane doesn't like running'_ He recalled, remembering a time too many when she'd bitched at him for getting up too early in order to get in a few miles before starting his day. No, it was most defiantly _not_ Diane, she wouldn't even be up so early on a Sunday while in port. "Major MacKenzie." He huffed out as she passed and watched expectantly, hoping that he wouldn't need to run after her.

The familiar voice was, again, not welcomed. It stopped Mac dead in her tracks and urged her to turn around. "This _really_ isn't my weekend." She said abruptly and with a touch of resentment. Next time Mac had a long weekend off, she as going to head OUT of Washington. Mac had already bumped into two people too many.

Harm knew by the look in her eyes that she wasn't interested in having any type of conversation with him, no matter if it was only a greeting. Sensing her displeasure, he took a few steps backward. "I'm sorry, Major. . .I am just accustomed to greeting people that I know. . .Have a good run." He flashed her a quick grin and then headed off in the opposite direction, jogging lightly – very lightly. Fine, so he walked away, shoulders slouched like a child that had been repremaded.

Mac watched him go, sighing deeply. The last thing she wanted was for the man to take things the wrong way. "Comm. . .Harm, wait." She jogged up to him and then brought her hands up in defense. "Sorry. . I'm normally not so rude." Smiling now, she gave him a once over finding him a little too pale for her taste. "Are you alright?"

"No." If it were anyone else, he'd lie. Given the circumstances, she could see right through him anyway. "I ah. . .hellheh. I should've listened to my therapist." He rubbed a sore spot over his ribs and sighed.

He looked good all sweaty, Mac realized as she drank in the sight of him in running shorts and a dark blue sleeveless shirt. His arms were chiseled, showing off the muscle beneath his skin as he moved. She shook off her wayward thoughts. "How about I buy you coffee?"

Not one to usually give up, Harm did so easily, he could always tackle a good run some other day. Besides, it was hard to say 'no' to a beautiful woman in form fitting black running pants and a slightly tight, light pink shirt. Even drenched in sweat the woman looked gorgeous. "I'd like that, thanks."

Harm followed her to a local coffee shop and soon they were sitting in a booth, each with a bagel and coffee. "They have the absolute _best_ sun dried tomato bagels ever." Mac took a bite, savoring the mixture of dough with honey walnut cream cheese. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the taste, not realizing that a certain Naval officer was sitting there, mouth hanging open.

Harm briefly wondered if that's what she looked like _every time_ Mac felt pleasure. He could feel his heart racing inside of his chest, threatening to jump out at any moment. He reached for the coffee and took a big gulp, wincing as the hot fluid burned his throat. It also offered to put his thoughts back in place. "Ahem." He cleared his throat hoping to get her attention.

Popping an eye open, Mac blushed slightly. "Sorry." It had been quite a while since she'd felt _that_ at ease with anyone and wasn't about to press the logic behind it. "Anyway. . .How _is_ the rehab going?"

He shrugged and unconsciously placed a hand on his ribs. "They keep saying that I am lucky not to have broken both my legs when I landed. . .I think a leg injury is better than this." At least with a leg injury, it could have been placed in a cast and allowed to heal properly, ribs was an entirely different situation.

"You're alive, Harm. Despite having painful injuries, life is more important."

It was true that most people didn't quite appreciate life. Those who survived near fatal accidents often came out of it with a new perception but that didn't apply to Harm who couldn't stop thinking about ways that both himself and Reaper could have survived. "What about the painful memories?"

Mac reached out and placed a hand over his own; an astonishing touch that felt welcomed and warm beneath her fingers. "I won't tell you that they'll go away. . .Not completely, but they do get easier to cope with."

A simple touch and yet, it was ungluing Harm. "You sound like someone who's gone through a bad experience or two."

"Try a lifetime's worth. . ." Divulging information about herself to her friends was one thing, but a total stranger – Harm still was a stranger – was another. Sighing, Mac thought back a moment, curious if her hatred towards her father stemmed from her mother leaving or Joe MacKenzie's own inadequacies. "My father was an abusive drunk and my mother left me with him on my fifteenth birthday. . .I have a collection of bad memories. Each categorized in my head. . ." Joe tried, really he did. But, to a teenager, a kid, it just wasn't enough.

It was almost unfathomable for Harm to see anything but a strong, confidant woman before him. He knew about Diane's past and the charmed life she'd had as the only daughter in the Schonke family. Her parents truly adored their children, always willing to go the extra mile to make sure they were well cared for and happy. In some ways, it had made Diane somewhat of a brat. Now, staring at her relative twin, Harm had trouble considering the 'bad childhood theory.' "I'm sorry to hear about that." He reached across the table and placed a hand on her own.

A touch so normal, almost natural, something many people do to console a friend, yet it seemed otherworldly and exquisite. It was right and wrong at the same time. Fire and ice and Mac wanted to be consumed in it so much that it scared her. Abruptly, she removed her hand from his, momentarily contemplating why she'd engage in such a gesture anyway. "It's fine."

"So. . .Is there anything new with my case?" Harm said, his voice hitching slightly, the only sign that the touch had moved him as much as it had her. Any magic that was woven between them dissipated and he thanked God for that. At the moment, he wasn't ready for love. Or whatever this was.

"Nothing new since the other night, no." She thought about that for a moment and opted to push the Diane subject. "Actually. . .that's not true." Taking the coffee mug before her, Mac took a gulp and placed it back down. "It's about Lieutenant Schonke."

Harm visibly cringed. After it happened he had a feeling that the argument with Diane would come to bite him in the ass. "About the argument?"

"Yes. Someone else mentioned it in their statements. I just found it odd that the Captain never questioned her about it."

"Why would it matter if he did or didn't?"

"Kohanek has a bug up his six with everyone. If he did such a thorough investigative job as he wanted to, he would have taken Cuyler to his word and noted that he saw the argument."

This had been the second time she'd brought up the argument. The first time he couldn't really wrap his head around the concept, now it was slightly insulting. Could it be that people thought he'd try to hurt himself due to an argument with a woman? "Mac, I didn't crash because of an argument. . .I was upset, yes, but not enough to try to kill myself if that's what you're going for."

Tilting her head to the side, Mac noted his expression. He didn't quite seem to believe what he was saying. "You wouldn't be the first person who did something wrong because they were worried about their girlfriend."

"She's _not_ my girlfriend." Harm defended quickly and then relented with a huff. "Alright, so she _was_ my girlfriend. But, if our arguments affected the way that I flew then I would have dropped out of the skies a good ten times before. . . You sound like a prosecutor."

"I am asking questions that a prosecutor would ask in case we get that far. I don't find any pleasure in this. . .I just need to know." Still, she wondered if her 'need to know' was truly due to her want to protect her client or morbid curiosity into his relationship. "Look, why don't we just drop. . ."

"Does anyone ever call you Sarah?" He interrupted; the question coming out of deep left field. It was something that had been bugging him for a while. Though 'Mac' was a cute name and it did seem to fit her, 'Sarah' was a beautiful name for an equally beautiful lady.

Mac opened and closed her mouth several times, but a response was difficult to come by on the tack that they were suddenly in. She'd never been speechless before, at least, not that she could remember or to the degree of being dumbstruck. If Harm was gearing towards getting her off the scent, it certainly worked and she felt like an idiot for it. "Uh. . .I. . .ah." Mac's cheeks flushed, her eyes widened. It took a swallow or two of tepid coffee to get her brain functioning again.

Try as he might, Harm couldn't hide the smirk. The question hadn't been an intentional missile aimed directly at its target, but he had to admit that he liked the collateral damage. It was cute seeing her flustered. "It's not a trick question, Mac."

"Isn't it?" She was annoyed that he seemed so pleased with himself. Had it been a different situation, it was likely that she'd use bodily force on him, and not the good kind either. As it was, she wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off of his face.

The temperature between them seemed to plunge drastically and Harm opted to swallow his pride and save himself from being on the receiving end of infamous Marine ire. "Sorry. . .I was just curious. . .I mean, no one, except mom and my grandmother ever call me 'Harmon.' It's always been 'Harm.'. . ." When her look, steely and threatening, didn't change, he opted for a different piece of information. "I have a plane named 'Sarah.'" He smiled at the admission, unknowingly shoving his foot into his mouth. "An old bi-plane that I restored. . .You know many pilots named their planes after women in their lives."

It wasn't a mystery that many men have named their planes after the women they loved. Same thing happened to sailing vessels and the automobile. A time honored tradition and Mac's curiosity got the best of her. "That's nice." She couldn't imagine just how wonderful a woman had to be in order to have a planed named after her – a true Aphrodite of our times. For the briefest of seconds, Mac lowered her defenses, wondering about Harm's past loves and the 'Sarah' he named his plane after. "Do you love her?"

Tables turned slightly, Harm lost his advantage. The question was hard to stomach as he immediately thought of Diane. Did he love her? Perhaps _once_ he _thought_ he loved her. But now. . . "Who? Diane?"

Mac shook her head. "No, 'Sarah.'"

A wide grin stretched across his face and he couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Once again, the table turned towards his favor. "I'm wild about her."

"Oh." For the second time that evening, she felt her heart plummet to the ground and, this time, couldn't hide the dissatisfaction. "Lucky lady." Her head lowered down, eyes scanning through the remnants of her coffee.

Without notice, Harm's hand had reached across the table, his index finger catching just under her chin as he lifted her head up. "She's my grandmother."

She probably should have been upset at Harm baiting her, but in truth, Mac was relieved to know that his plane wasn't named after a lover. "Do you fly 'Sarah' much?"

Harm shrugged and sat back. "Not as much as I like, but enough." It was silly of him to entertain ideas of taking Mac flying and still, Harm walked himself into that trap. "I could take you up sometime."

Of course, she'd been on a plane before, commercial and military flights where _big_ planes were used. Most of the bi-planes that she'd heard of meant that cables were exposed and safety measures were practically nil. Not to mention that the damned things were usually built a good fifty plus years ago. "I don't know."

"I think you would really enjoy it." He studied her expression and then conjured up a sweet, sweet offer than she couldn't resist. "It will give you an idea of what happened up there. . .Except that this is much safer." Harm could tell the wheels were turning in her head and before she had a chance to object, he shot from the hip. "We can head out tomorrow morning, I'll have you back before Lunch."

Harm wasn't pleading, not yet anyway, but Mac could see that cute, pouting, little boy look start to form. When his eyes locked fully onto hers, she was a goner. "Well, I really don't have too much to do tomorrow." Her plans of relaxing at home had already been partially obliterated, not that she minded parts of it. In truth, there were worst things to do than spend time with Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior. Yes, she was going to give in, hook, line and sinker. "What time?"


	7. Come Fly With Me

**Hey gang!! Okay, before you drop me from the highest building, stop, listen, look and think… or something.**

**Been busy. Very busy. Still busy, but found a little time to do something. Things should regulate itself soon, after deadlines are met.**

**My personal life is nil. Thank God I am single, if not, I would be anyway. ;)**

**Okay… so this part…. Well, some tidbits. You guys know Harm is taking Mac flying… NO POACHERS… I thought about re-vamping "Full Engagement." But, no.**

**Why not? Well, in this story there is something worse than poachers – Diane Schonke. Yes, now that I have you all visibly cringing, you will cringe a bit more and hate her to the extreme by the end of this chapter.**

**You may even hate Harm a little, please don't. The man is confused and needs a hug… Or a bat to the side of his head. Haven't decided which yet. ;)**

**So…. Enjoy.**

**Jackie**

**PS: Mistakes are mine (If anyone spots some crap about California, ignore it. Originally, I was going to base this in San Diego but found it too much of a pain in the ass to relocate everyone.)**

**Chapter 7 – Come Fly With Me**

**0720 Local  
Diane's Apartment  
****Near Rock Creek Park  
****Washington, DC**

"You have it." Diane stood at her semi-opened front door wearing the nightie she used for pajamas and an annoyed expression. She was looking through one eye, the other still shut from sleep deprivation. "Di, _you_ have it."

So he said twice before and still, she wasn't too sure what the handsome, six foot, four inch hunk of a male specimen before her was talking about. "Harm, what the hell is 'it' and why do _I_ have it?"

Harm sighed in desperation. He was running late and in need of his bomber jacket so as not to freeze his six off when they hit cruising altitude in his Stearman. "My bomber jacket? Remember? You said that it stayed behind on the carrier and Tuna gave it to you for safe keeping?" While he wasn't a morning riser, Diane was damned near catatonic before coffee and a real bitch to boot. "Di, please, I'm in a hurry."

"Rabb, what the fuck do you want?" She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and now sported a scowl to replace the annoyance. Anytime the woman used _that_ tone along with his last name, it was never a good sign.

_Why me?_ He thought to himself, realizing that punctuality was never going to be one of his strong suits. "The. Bomber. Jacket. That. Tuna. Gave. You." He punctuated each word as if speaking to a misbehaving child and even threw in a few hand gestures in case the point wasn't driven home. He would have drawn a picture but doubted very much that it would get through to Diane. "You know, if you let me in, I bet I can find it." Without warning, he shoved past her, stalking through the living room and straight to the small closet across from the sofa. There, next to Diane's jackets, he found the bomber jacket and something else that belonged to him which was hanging on the hook behind the door.

Harm took the item in his hands, smiling fondly. "My 'Go To Hell' buckle. . .Thanks, Di." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then reached for the jacket. "Listen, sorry to wake you so early, but I'm in a hurry."

"So you said, I think." She closed the closet door as he slipped past her and headed towards the door in a somewhat hasty retreat. "Wait. What's the rush?" The way that he was running around could only mean one thing. "It's a girl, isn't it?" Sleep deprived or not, it was still easy to see that distinct tint to his cheeks. "Who is she?"

"It's not what you think. . .I'm just taking Major MacKenzie up on 'Sarah' to reenact the seconds before the mishap." And that may have seemed like a perfectly innocent and plausible explanation if it wasn't for the smile he sported after mentioning that Mac was joining him. Or the fact that it was nearly impossible to recreate anything pertaining the mishap.

Had it been any other woman Diane would have egged him on, cheered for him to catch another conquest. As it was, Mac rubbed her the wrong way and the thoughts of the pair conquering the skies together was unsettling. "Oh! Let me brush my teeth and throw on some of clothes."

The change in her demeanor had been so sudden that Harm barely had a chance to register what had happened. He'd dealt with people trying to butt in before, but never with such spontaneity and speed. Most just guilted you to death. "_Di?_" He went after her, soon realizing his mistake as he stepped into the room to find her naked, the nightie pooled on the floor. "Oh. . .Sorry." Ever the gentleman, he turned around, facing away only to have her walk in front of him in order to get a bra that was hanging on the back of the door.

"Oh please, Harm. . .You've seen me naked before."

He didn't understand why it was so difficult for him to look at her nude form. Besides the fact that they were 'broken up' as it was, part of him felt guilty. Why, he couldn't comprehend. "Yeah, but. . .Look. . .Thanks for the jacket."

"You're not taking me with you?" The question seemed so innocent and yet it was perfectly planned and executed. He could never resist her pouting lips and that would be her trick to get him away from the little flying trip with Little Miss Marine Mac. Yes, now that she thought about it, they never had to even make it to the airfield. "You know how much I love to fly. . _All_ types of flying. . . There's something about taking control of the stick."

It became quite obvious that the type of flying she was referring to required a bed instead of a plane. Ignoring her nakedness, Harm shook his head and grinned. "I know what you're trying to do, Di. It isn't going to work." He stood his ground when she took two steps forward and stood so close that her breasts were nearly touching his chest.

"And what is it that I am doing, Harm?" Her voice had become so bedroom soft that a lesser man would have surrendered to her siren's song. It was forcing Harm to walk a fine line between heading to the airfield or straight into Diane's bed.

When she pressed her flesh against him it took an added measure of control to ward her off. "You're trying to seduce me and it isn't working." He lied and took two steps backwards. "I have to get going and _you_ need a cold shower." Walking out of her apartment had the feeling of challenging the gauntlet. He made it through, a little worse for wear and sporting a semi-erection that he prayed would go away.

Furiously, Diane tossed a robe on and rushed to the door in time to see Harm getting into his Corvette. He didn't wave goodbye and he didn't even glance at her direction. He simply tossed the car into gear and took off as if she'd been nothing but a meaningless one night stand. Thoughts of joining them at the airfield were hard to squash and before she knew it, Diane was in her car headed after Harm.

**1015 Local  
****Belleville, Pennsylvania.**

Driving up to the hangar, Harm expected Mac to be there before him. He was already running late when he left Diane's place. He was surprised, however, not to find a vehicle near the hangar that held 'Sarah.' He then heard the growl of a motorcycle coming up behind him, but he didn't expect Mac to be the driver.

Harm stood frozen when she removed the helmet and settled it against the seat, then proceeded to remove the small backpack she'd been wearing. Next, Mac unzipped the leather jacket, removing it completely and tossing it over the helmet. She was wearing a fitted t-shirt and faded black jeans. God, why did all of that turn him on?

"You ride motorcycles?" His mouth felt full of cotton, his throat unwilling to cooperate so that his question sounded out more like a squeak.

Mac grinned mischievously. What was it about guys and women on bikes? "It was a beautiful day."

'So are you.' He almost said out loud and bit his cheek instead.

"Besides, my Jeep's in the shop."

Christ, what was going on with him? Why did he believe that this would be a fun little trip, to possibly aid in an investigation that could mean life or death to him? There was no denying that Sarah MacKenzie was beautiful, but he'd seen his share of beautiful women. He'd certainly indulged some sexual fantasies with some very gorgeous women and was far past the point of being a tongue-tied teenager, but this woman, who he didn't even know, was turning his brain to mush. "Yeah, it's. . .it's gorgeous." He looked up at the skies and then pointed towards the hangar. "Plane's that way." He checked to make sure that she was following and then picked up the pace. "I need to do a pre-fly. .She's maintained well, but you always have to check to make sure everything is in place."

"Understood, and if you can give her an extra once-over for me, I'd appreciate it." She really didn't like planes much at all, even commercial flights. From her backpack, Mac pulled out a tan jacket which she slug over her arm. "Wow."

Harm smiled brightly as they stepped into the hangar where 'Sarah' was. The yellow Stearman was kept in peak condition. It had been his pride and joy, the one big link he had to his father. "It was my grandfather's. . . They used to train in a Stearman like 'Sarah' back during World War Two. . .She was sitting on my grandmother's farm in forever. .Dad and I were going to restore her." He ran a hand over a wing, caressing the smooth lines and ignoring the pain over his heart whenever he remembered his father. "Restoring her was everything to me. . .Kinda felt like dad was with me."

Mac was taken back by the sentiment that so few men were keen to let show. She'd never understand the affinity that Navy pilots had with the airborne hunks of metal. It seemed like they were just big boys with expensive toys. Recently, her belief had started to change. "Probably feels like he's with you when you fly too. . .I bet he was with you during that crash." Something had kept him alive and it was more than just the ejector seat and Navy training. She'd seen the footage, the carnage. Harm shouldn't have survived.

"Yeah, probably. . .Alright, if you brought anything we can stow it behind the pilot's seat." He said, pointing up to the seats in the plane. "You sit in the front, the pilot sits in the back."

After the preflight check, Harm settled into the front and started the engines. He eased the Stearman out of its home and headed slowly towards the runway. "Don't touch anything when we're up there. . .These old girls have dual controls." She blanched at the thought and quickly placed her hands on her lap. Harm practically read her mind and chuckled. "You _can_ hold on, Mac. . .just not to the stick or the controls."

Over the sounds of the engine Harm could not hear the screams coming from near the hangar. Diane had arrived a little late due to an accident on the interstate. She ran towards the plane, waving her hands widely in order to get their attention. There wasn't any space for her, but it didn't mean a thing. She could always try her charms to get her in the passenger seat and to the mountains where she'd con Harm into staying the night. Mac would just have to wait or go home. The latter idea pleased her immensely. "Harm damnit! Look this way!" She yelled but it was futile. Either they couldn't hear or were ignoring her. Still, she was going to stop that plane. Diane ran back to her car and sped towards the plane and almost reached it.

Almost.

After getting clearance from the tower, 'Sarah' sped down the runway and then lifted gracefully into the perfectly blue skies. The sensation scared Mac a little, especially seeing that all of the 'guts' were in visible sight. Still, she used her Marine bravado, swallowed down hard and placed her life in the hands of a pilot that had recently suffered a crash. She trusted him. As they made one turn, she spotted a vehicle below, its headlights turning on and off, seemingly trying to signal them. "Harm, I think that car down there is trying to signal us."

Harm glanced down briefly and cringed. The woman was becoming nothing but a nuisance. "Nah, they'd use the tower. . .Don't worry about it, just hang on." He turned the plane a hard right and headed north. It wasn't long before 'Sarah' was out over the tops of the trees. "Okay, Mac. . .You think you can stomach some aerial maneuvers?" It wasn't supersonic, but the old girl could manage a few tricks that definitely gave Harm his jollies.

"Sure, why not?" Why not, indeed. Mac held on for dear life as he took the plane skyward, onto its back and then leveled off again. She could hear Harm's laughter over the headset and realized that the aerobatics weren't too bad.

"Take the stick!" He said suddenly

Mac froze. "What stick?"

"_The_ stick, Mac. . .I'll teach you to do a few maneuvers. . .Got it?"

She wrapped her right hand around the top of the stick and gulped. "Uh yeah, I got it."

Mac followed Harm's instructions, taking the plane through a few rolls and dips. Then, she had the plane headed straight down, towards the ground. "Haaarm!" She cried out as the trees came rushing closer and closer. She wanted to kill him as he chuckled and took the controls from her, quickly pulling Sarah skyward.

"I've got her."

For nearly an hour they toured over Pennsylvania, enjoying the clear blue skies and the comfort they felt around one another. When it was time to head back, Mac couldn't believe they'd been up for that long.

"Hour and a half by my watch." He confirmed, though off by two minutes. They remained silent for a bit, Harm contemplating letting her know one little detail about their flight. Five minutes before reaching the airfield, he decided to fess up. "Mac, you _do_ know that I can't really show you what happened during that crash, right?"

Mac figured as much. This wasn't something that could be duplicated in order to test and see how a normal flight should have been conducted. Still, she played coy. "So why did you take me flying?"

"I wanted to." He confessed. "I mean, I can give you an idea of what it was like up there, but I don't think you really want to go through all of the rocking and rolling." For effect he moved the plane, causing a rough movement that shook through the fuselage.

"What about the crash itself? Could you have corrected enough to prevent it?"

Harm had wondered the same thing several times. In truth, he believed that if Mace hadn't ejected, the plane would have landed successfully. At the very least, it would have been a bolter or he'd have caught the one wire. "I think I could have. . .Mace ejected us at a very crucial moment. . .The jolt from the ejector seat didn't help any. . .I still screwed the pooch, Mac. . .I'm still at fault. . .But it could have been prevented." She mulled over that thought as he made a perfect landing back at the airfield. "There's this little café about twenty minutes away from here. Care to go for lunch?"

"Sounds like a plan." She agreed and took a deep breath as she glanced skyward. This was something she'd have to indulge in again.

Next to the hangar, leaning against her vehicle, which was parked next to Harm's Corvette and Mac's motorcycle, was Diane, with a look that could kill anyone within twenty paces. She watched as Harm taxied 'Sarah' into the hangar and then helped Major MacKenzie down, his hands lingering on her waist. The action turned something deep in her gut. She figured it was the same thing that serial killers felt as they went for their kill. Diane managed to plaster a smile to her face and greeted them as politely as possible. "Hey you two."

No matter how many times she came across the woman, Mac still had a sense of unease when she was anywhere near Diane Schonke. At fist, she would have blamed their likeness, now she was starting to believe that it was something potentially sinister. "Hello Lieutenant." Out of habit, she regarded the woman by her rank and then quickly corrected herself. "I mean, Diane."

"Mac. . .Hey Harm." She wrapped her arms around Harm's neck and then planted him with a deep kiss that he couldn't help but respond to. "You left without me."

Thoroughly confused – hadn't she broken up with him? – he let his hands slowly fall from her body. "I ah." Harm took a step backwards and stood next to Mac. "The Major and I were just trying to figure out what went wrong before the crash."

"For an hour and a half? I hope this means the case will be closed soon." Her sharp tongue had gotten her in trouble a time or two in the Academy, but it also got her things that she wanted. "Harm, how about lunch and a movie?" She asked and when it seemed like he was about to object, she slipped the ace out of her sleeve. "You owe me."

And he did owe her. He'd promised to take her out after he'd gotten out of the hospital and had yet to have done so. Turning to Mac, he noted the annoyed expression on her face. Neither of them were up for this intrusion and as a result, this sickening tension began to wind itself, threatening to choke him. "I know. . .but. . ."

Sadly, Mac gave him an out. "Harm, go with Diane. I'm exhausted anyway, all that flying wiped me out." She said with a smile and then headed towards her motorcycle and switched to her leather riding jacket. "I had a good time, thanks."

Harm suddenly felt completely out of control. Never had someone destroyed his plans with such finesses. He tossed a displeased glanced towards Diane and then raced after the other woman.. "Mac, wait. . .You could join us." The chase was absolutely futile; she'd bowed out and he would have to take it like a man. He'd said too much at Diane's place, given himself away and now was left to face the consequences.

As much as Mac wanted to spend a little more time with Harm, she wasn't about to be the third wheel. She slipped on her helmet and pulled up its visor, making her eyes the only thing visible. "Nah, I'd be no fun." Not to mention, she wasn't sure she could take having to watch Harm and Diane cozying up to one another. Electro shock therapy seemed more pleasant. "Have a good time."

Arguing was made impossible by the sounds of the Ducati's engine revving up. So, he stepped back and waved as Mac drove away from the hangar. His heart gave a little lurch which disappeared almost as fast as she had. As dejected as he felt, Harm didn't have the strength to pull Diane's arm away as she threaded it through his arm. "Let's go, sailor. . .I'm starving." It paid to be a winner.

**1700 Local  
****Diane's Apartment  
****Near Rock Creek Park  
****Washington, DC**

Diane was seething, though she'd done her best not to let it show. Their lunch had been utterly boring, Harm hadn't said much and let the whole of the conversation on her. She'd managed to find a few things that slightly were of interest and even then he kept looking at his watch as if he had somewhere else to be. _"In a hurry?"_

"_Nope."_ When he did respond it was either a singular sentence or a monosyllabic word. Harm spent their whole lunch barely touching his sandwich and indulging in five beers which had started to get the best of him on an empty stomach. He cursed himself as he tried to get into his 'Vette only to realize that he wasn't drunk, but too drunk to drive.

Now, he was at Diane's mercy. With the interlude between Diane and Mac, he'd forgotten his house keys and cell phone which were still on the plane. "Why are we at your place? I _need_ my keys, Di." He'd also fallen asleep on the drive back from Belleville which is why he hadn't protested when Diane's car headed in the opposite direction of the hangar.

Harm was standing so close to her sofa that a slight push sent him into the soft cushions. He groaned as Diane straddled him and situated herself on his lap. "We're at my place because _you_ are too drunk to drive." She smiled at him and brought her hands down to his chest, tracing the muscles beneath his shirt. "What?" His expression was strange(.) It wasn't necessarily bad, but it was strange. She half expected him to protest, he'd been doing a lot of that lately. "You know, I expected you to resist." She brought her head down close to his own and pressed her lips to his in a simple kiss. There was no magic, but there was a long history that no one could take away from them.

"What do you want from me?" Harm's question was whispered and he stared up with the same expression as before – confusion. He didn't know what was going on with Diane. A few months previous she had shot him down and now she was so intent to re-conquer him all over again. It was their cycle, the push and pull that they lived for. But, their argument had such finality that he'd taken it at face value. She didn't want him and he was trying to live with that. "Back on the cruise you made it crystal clear that we were through."

Diane shrugged with an aloof expression that he'd always found adorable. "Things change. . ._I_ changed." She wanted to believe that her sudden want to be with Harm had nothing to do with Mac and decided not to put too much thought into it all. If she still felt something for him why bother trying to fight it? "I love you, Harm. . .You know I do."

Muddled thoughts from a slight hang over prevented him from remembering that she'd once called him 'love starved.' Her sweet voice was forcing him to give in and Harm was too helpless to stop it. "I love you." She said again and again, repeating the words as she pressed soft kisses on his face.

Breathless from a deep kiss, he lost thought of the other woman who looked so much like the woman on his lap. This woman was familiar and the other was still a mystery. Whether Harm wanted to admit it or not, history did matter and between him and Mac such a word didn't exist.

"I love you, too." The words seemed foreign to him. Forced. Yet, he gave in to the temptation that Diane was serving up to him.

They made love on the sofa, hot and passionately and with a fervor that hadn't been experienced since their first time. Afterwards, Diane lay curled on her side and Harm sat on the edge of the sofa, his head pounding mercilessly. They'd never had a 'morning after' debacle and, up to that point, he'd never thought they would. Sexually speaking, they fit like hand and glove. Slowly, he turned to her sleeping form and that was when the feelings hit him.

He'd made the worst mistake of his life letting Diane back in. He'd been doing so well to rid himself of all emotions that were tied to her and now he fell back in – hook, line and sinker.

Even with history on their side, why did it feel so wrong this time?

Damn history.


	8. Just A Kiss

**Okie dokie my friends! Long wait, I know, I know. I'm busy, V's busy! (My beta reader.) It's the holidays, you know? Gotta work to buy pressies. And resist getting something for me in the process. Well, I DID buy some bakeware…anyhoo…**

**Love the comments on this one, you guys crack me up, really.**

**One thing though, I keep hearing that Harm is different and weak… Yes, he is. Purposely so. On the show he has hinted to weakness in his life (Like Keeter bringing him back to Annapolis when he went awol.) and the ramp strike was one of those. I think it would be understandable for a strong person to act differently when everything you have was taken away and your faults were being put on display.**

**As for him sleeping with Diane, I know it sucks. But, it wouldn't be the first person in a destructive relationship. Besides, she sucks in this story. LOL!!**

**Okay… sooooo… moving right along…. I hope to have Chappie 9 soon, but we'll see. There are also a few things I am working on while V gets betaing. ;)**

**There's the Vampire story (I am enamored with it) which I add to whenever I get a whim. The sex scene on that story... woah... woah... woah... ahem**

**And... let's see. . .a very short, one-shot fic called "After The Landing" which is based on "Full Engagement." And then, of course "The Fine Art Of Marriage" which I am stuck presently with Mac's POV. I need to get un-stuck because I have Harm's POV already written. Grrrrrrrr. So, if someone can toss me a muse on that one, I would be obliged. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

**Jackie**

**Chapter 8 – Just A Kiss.  
Two Days Later  
****1259 Local  
****Harm's Apartment  
****North of Union Station.**

"_Like sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of Our Lives."_ The words came out through his TV as they had every day around one in the afternoon. Harm, like most red blooded males, 'despised' soap operas, however, he had a soft spot for this one. It reminded him of his childhood and the summers that he would watch that particular one with either his grandmother or his mother.

He was tired of waiting for clearance to fly, something that his old friend, Captain Boone, had suggested would take time. The investigation needed to be completed and his physical therapist still hadn't signed off on his injuries. All and all, Harm was bored out of his mind and exhausted with his new, mundane existence. Life sucked.

A firm knock on the door interrupted the latest trials of the Brady family. With a groan, he raised himself off of the sofa. The pillow he was using under his knees fell to the floor and he nearly tripped over it. "Shit." The knocking came again and it caused a surge of irritation through him. "I'm coming goddamnit!" He didn't want company.

He spent the day before nursing a nasty hangover and trying to get out of a certain Crypo Officer's apartment. Each time he insisted on leaving, Diane forced him into staying. All in all, it was nearly midnight before he was able to get back home with his car which had remained at the café. "Where's the fire?" He figured Diane would venture to his home at some point, but the reality was much more pleasant.

Harm stood at a loss for words, his mind trying to wrap around the person who was standing in front of him. It wasn't Diane and the reality was much more pleasant. He was starting to see more differences between them, the subtleties that made him enjoy Mac's company more than Diane's. "Hi." Harm's tone of voice changed completely, his eyes that were once threatening to lose their light sparked to life. The flyboy smile came to life and any straight woman would be hard-pressed to admit that it didn't have an affect.

Mac was no exception, though she masked her attraction damned well. Alright, so she'd faltered here and there, but she was only human and Harm was _very_ easy on the eyes. Her distaste for pilots was wavering, teetering on a fine edge. "Hello Commander." She returned his smile with one of her own and detected the moment he caught his breath. Trying not to smirk, she opted to take a peek inside his place. "May I come in or do you have company?"

"Ah. . ." Harm turned back, suddenly self conscious at the slight mess of his home. It wasn't in complete disarray, but not nearly as snappy as it would have looked if he'd consciously invited a woman over. "Just entertaining myself. . .Come on in."

Mac was in uniform, hoping that it would disperse any sense of impropriety between them. What she didn't notice was the hungry look in his eyes as she walked past. She masked her own hunger and ignored how well he was filling the jeans he wore. _'Ugh!'_ She thought, utterly disgusted with herself. The man was turning her into a hormonal teenager.

"Have a seat." With his thumb Harm motioned towards the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Water is fine." She glanced around at the unfamiliar space. It was tidy, save for a few magazines and books that were thrown on the coffee table. Besides pictures of nature and F-14s, on the table next to the sofa Mac found one inside of a wooden frame. It was of a small boy in the cockpit of a plane and a man who looked just like Harm except for a well grown mustache. It was his father, she knew the man from the family records that the Navy kept on file. The boy in the cockpit was surely Harm himself, the thought made her smile. Jet fuel was certainly in his blood.

Next to that, she spotted a picture that, according to the uniforms, was taken during his academy days. Harm stood along side of three people, Jack Keeter, a handsome African American man and Diane Schonke. The four of them were smiling brightly and Diane's arms were wrapped possessively around Harm's middle. They looked good together and though she had little reason to be jealous, that damned green monster reared its ugly head again.

History was hard to replace and even harder to deny, so was the sensitive information she currently carried. She couldn't even begin to solve whatever she felt for him. "I'm surprised Lieutenant Schonke isn't here." The events from two days earlier replayed like an old, grainy, black and white movie. Everything had gone so well until they landed and she was thrust in the middle of whatever Harm and Diane were involved in. As was her modus operandi, she ran – or rather – rode away without looking back.

It hurt to head back home with such confusion in her heart and mind. Feeling this out of control was never a good thing, but she wasn't a dumb kid anymore. She knew how to control herself or, at the very least, how to pretend. With Harm, there was a lot of pretending to do. She began with pretending that the interlude at the airfield hadn't hurt and continued on with pretending that she hadn't cried out of frustration. Yes, pretending was better.

Harm emerged from the kitchen with two glasses of water, each with a lemon wedge floating amongst the ice. "Look, we're not as involved as she led you to believe, Mac." And yet, he had slept with her recently. Twice he'd indulged and felt a horrible sense of guilt. The first time he could have chalked up to the alcohol poisoning his mind. The second, he was willing, able and maybe a little desperate. The guilt settled in the moment he stopped seeing Diane in his arms and considered what it would be like to make love to Mac.

His reassurance wasn't enough for Mac who opted to move on instead of probing further and delving into more intimate issues. Work always seemed to be the only thing in her life with a semblance of control. "Thanks." She took the water and drank deeply before placing it on a coaster Harm had on the coffee table. "I'm not sure you'll want to hear what I have to tell you. Next week we start your article 32 hearing."

"That's not good is it?" He didn't know much about the law, save a few things here and there when he'd had to testify on behalf of a pilot a few years back.

Mac shook her head. "It's not the worst thing in the world. I mean, Senator Mace was trying to find a loop hole to force this to go straight to a general court-martial. Thank God the Navy has some sense." But she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it would head towards the court-martial anyway. The case had become too high profile for it not to. Harm was being made an example of.

"Damn." He'd asked Mac to keep him up to date with the investigation and now it seemed everything was slipping through his fingers like sand. "So what now? I won't get to fly until it's all over?"

"I'm afraid not, Harm." There was a slight bit of light at the end of the tunnel. At the very least, she wouldn't have to worry about the case and who was defending him. "I do have a little bit of good news – I was appointed as your defense counsel." She smiled.

Harm glanced up at her and that smile she sported. It oozed with a confidence of someone seasoned and ready to tackle any obstacle. Her strength warmed him and the craving of wanting to know more about the soft woman inside the strong Marine threatened to leave him breathless. "I hear you're the best."

"Not the best, but I do pretty well."

"Don't be modest, Mac. . .I've read a couple of the articles that the Times wrote about you. . .I'm a lucky man." He meant to say 'sailor', that he was a lucky 'sailor', but wound up giving himself away, enough that he hoped she couldn't see just how badly he was aching to touch her. And then, the words spilled out, in a low, husky tone that decisively made her heart stop. "I _really_ want to kiss you."

Mac swallowed hard, the admission costing her so much in a moment that she had so little to give. Still, her tongue involuntarily snuck out, moistening her lips. She found him staring at the simple act and found her own eyes mesmerized by his lips. Was it possible to self combust out of want and desire? If so, this man was put on this Earth as a means to her undoing. She'd managed until then to keep her own desires at bay but with that simple phrase all of her walls crumbled and Mac felt herself wanting to be kissed by him and more. So much more. "What's stopping you?" She said, inching forward enough so that they were a breath away.

"I thought you wouldn't want me to." His eyes trained on her lips, slightly parted and moist, preparing for his touch. He was losing it, drowning, and he had no sense to stop it.

"What ever gave you that idea?" Mac's mouth fused onto his in one long solitary kiss which served to leave her breathless and with a tingling in her tummy. They didn't break apart, merely remained still while their lips began a slow and sultry exploration. He was a damned good kisser, tender, caring, knowing how much pressure to add. When his tongue ran along the seam of her lips, Mac was unglued.

Harm's tongue slipped inside her mouth, finding her tongue, caressing it in an act that was almost like making love. The hammering of his heart against his chest was so hard that Mac could feel it as she pressed her hand there. He was so alive, so warm and so damned sexy that it was difficult to stop when her head was telling her to. Instead, Mac ran her fingers along the hem of his shirt and reached underneath to touch his skin.

A barely there contact and Harm shivered, pressed his body against hers and eased Mac down into the sofa. He slid his hand up her stocking clad leg and under her skirt to find that the stockings she was wearing only went to mid-thigh. The revelation made him groan as he pushed her skirt higher, allowing Harm to settle more comfortably between Mac's thighs.

Mac grabbed his shirt pushing it upwards until Harm stripped it off and tossed it towards the entertainment center that housed his television set. He sat back and pulled Mac up; together they worked on her clothing which dropped into a green pool on the floor. Mac's fingers nimbly undid the buttons to her blouse which she pushed aside as she leaned back exposing the white lace underneath.

Harm looked into her eyes and then allowed his gaze to settle downward, curious as to what the scraps of lace partially covered. He lowered himself down, his lips coming in contact with her neck. Mac's soft sound of pleasure was almost like a reward and he continued a path down her neck and towards the valley of her breasts.

Mac arched against him, urging him to continue the exploration. She wanted to be touched and touch him in return. "I haven't felt like this about anyone." He said, punctuating the statement with a kiss.

"Neither have I." She whispered into his ear and then took his earlobe into her mouth, nipping lightly. They shouldn't have kissed or indulged in something that was crashing over them like a tidal wave, but at that moment, she couldn't find any reason to why any of it was wrong.

His hand caressed around the lace, teasing the skin underneath which he felt hardening against his palm. He wanted more; needed more, but a knock at his door wanted otherwise.

Harm cast a jaundiced eye towards the offending noise. "Ignore it." Whoever it was would just have to go away. He kissed her desperately, making her chuckle when he groaned in frustration. The knocking came harder, threatening to tear the door down. The moment was shattered and it was all Harm could do to not scream. He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Mac bit her lower lip, missing the contact even before he pulled away from her.

He helped Mac sit up and then began handing her the clothing on the floor. "Bathroom is towards the left." Frowning, he couldn't help but feel disappointed as she disappeared around the corner.

It was almost painful to let go of the moment and as Harm slipped his shirt back on, he didn't have to wonder who was at the door. He'd hoped that if she hadn't shown up in the morning, she wouldn't show up at all. No such luck. "Hey there, sailor." Diane's smile was deceptively charming. When she tried to kiss him, Harm pulled away, something that felt more like a slap in the face than anything else. "Not happy to see me?"

"I would be happy if you called before you came." Without invitation, she stepped past him, pushing past the partially opened door. "Come on in." Harm said sarcastically, mentally praying that Mac would stay in the bathroom until Diane left. He didn't want another awkward situation or for Diane to give away what had happened the night previous.

After giving the living room a once over, Diane situated herself on the sofa, legs crossed in a fashion that forced him to look at her thighs. "So, how you feeling? I didn't wear you out did I?" She was going to make another comment, a slight bit dirty and seductive, but a noise in the bathroom peaked her curiosity. "Oh, someone is here." Grinning evilly, she stood and attempted to head towards the noise until Harm blocked her path. "Who is she?" Diane whispered, a gleam of mischief glowing in her brown eyes as she peaked over his shoulder.

Harm stood his ground, realizing that he was making the situation worse by being cryptic. Still, he hoped that Mac would take longer and the two would not meet ever again. "Why do you assume it's a she?"

"You seem flustered."

Flustered was right, it took a bit of effort to make a coherent sentence. How could he when the most intriguing woman he'd ever met was making out with him no more than one minute earlier? He could still feel her hands on his body, lips caressing his own. They should have never stopped and just moved things into the bedroom where he couldn't hear neither a knock on the door or the ringing of the doorbell. "Well, yeah. . .I didn't receive the greatest news."

"Oh?"

He would have elaborated, but Mac's voice cut him off. She was fully dressed in her uniform, cap dangling from her fingers. Walking out of the bathroom she'd already turned on her 'Marine Mode' in the hopes of grasping to the shreds of control that were left. "Thank you for the use of your restroom Commander." But, she hadn't expected Diane Schonke, not after Harm's believable "not as involved" statement. "Lieutenant Schonke, how are you this afternoon?"

Diane had never been the type to bite her tongue, especially when senior officers were concerned. "Ma'am, your uniform is a little off." She pointed at the buttons to Mac's jacket and smirked as if she knew something that she had no business knowing.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Mac sorted the buttons and made a beeline for her briefcase. "I think we're all set, Commander. Again, I am very sorry about the news."

She was leaving? The thought pained Harm who gave a brief, fleeting thought as to how to keep Mac in his home and kick Diane out. He turned to Diane, giving her a surly expression before offering Mac to walk her out. "Mac, I'm _so_ sorry." The front door had been closed behind him, but that didn't mean that Diane couldn't hear the conversation.

"It's alright . . .Kinda put things back into perspective." Sadly, the perspective wasn't something that Mac wanted to think about and yet, her position in the matter dictated her actions. She and Harm couldn't get involved, not now, probably not ever. Now, if she could only communicate that point to her traitorous body. "Better go back in, the Lieutenant is waiting for you." It was easier to _push_ him into Diane's arms. Maybe if she saw him with someone else, it would break these new feelings she had inside.

"There's nothing going on between us, believe me . .I don't want her." A shadow in his eyes said something different. He may not have wanted Diane, but he did indulge and take part in something that was making him feel so dirty now. Damnit, what had he done?

Mac caught the look and for the first time considered all of the rumors that had been uttered about a certain Lieutenant Commander. _Playboy_, seemed to be the overused term and though she didn't want to believe it, it was difficult not to. "Who do you want?"

"I thought that was obvious." He motioned back towards the living room, cracking a devastatingly sexy smile.

Despite herself, Mac couldn't help a little smirk. He had seemed sincere enough. "A little obvious, yeah"

The need to touch her was so physically overwhelming that Harm gave in, taking her hand in his. "Mac, I know that we've just complicated things but. . .."

"I have to get going." She cut him off knowing that this was a conversation that should never be had. "This was supposed to be my lunch break and . . .I'm well overdo." Her hand was still held in his and Mac had made no effort to pull away.

Catching every word, Diane stood, sheltered by the partially opened door that led to Harm's living room. She could hear the conversation from the small foyer and cringed at the implication that she'd received upon entering his home. Harm was _hers_. She'd staked claim to him and had the history to prove it. Despite her reluctance to pursue something more, now she was ready for it and Mac couldn't and wouldn't stand a chance.

Harm wanted to kiss her, but didn't. "Drive safe." An almost Herculean effort helped him let her go.

"So, the Major makes deliveries?" Diane's voice from just inside of the house had made him jump. "How cute." He'd forgotten her presence but was fully aware when her hands wrapped around his middle.

Pulling her fingers apart, he stepped out of her arms and backed into his apartment, closing the front door. "It's SOP, Di. . A lawyer has to get in touch with her client."

Standard operating procedures did not require the male client of a female lawyer to wear lipstick. The shade just wasn't Harm's color. "Ah, bet there was a whole lot of lip service involved." She waved off the argument that he was sure to present and dabbed at his lip. "You have lipstick on your lips. From what I know, and I think I know your sexual appetites better than most, you don't have a fetish for wearing women's lipsticks."

Caught. Red handed and with such a tell tale sign that Harm couldn't talk his way out of this one. "We kissed." He admitted. "And I liked it."

"Hmmm." Diane took her place on the top of the coffee table as Harm sat across from her. This wasn't ideal when all she was trying to do was get him back into her life. She realized the mistake that she made the moment he'd shown a slight interest in Mac. Harm was a good man, desired and needed. Things were just not going to get any better on the boyfriend front, so she'd decide to settle on him. Settling wasn't always the smartest of ideas, but she'd run out of options and suitors. "What about us?"

Is that where all of the flirting and sex was headed? To another discussion about a relationship that he no longer wanted? True, he shouldn't have slept with her, shouldn't have egged her on, so to speak. But it happened and Diane needed to understand that the night prior was no different to any of their other intimate interludes. "What about us, Di? You're the one that tossed us overboard. . .You said 'no' and I took that to heart."

"Well, maybe I didn't mean it. Maybe I needed a little more time."

"I gave you time. . .I've given you time over and over. . .Let's face it, we don't belong together."

Now he was the one putting the nail into the coffin and making sure it was hammered shut for all time. There was only one sliver of hope left and it was a pathetic one at best. "Last night. . .You said that you loved me."

"Diane, I was drunk." Though the excuse was a lame one, it was also the truth. "I was drunk and. . .look, you and I have a history together. Some of it was good, some of it bad, and, in a way, I do love you.. . .But, it isn't enough. Not anymore."

Diane was shocked to find tears running down her cheeks. When the hell had she become so damned sentimental? "What would have happened if I'd said yes and decided to try and have that family life with you?"

Harm shrugged. He had considered Diane the perfect woman, despite their petty arguments and differences. For a time, after the ramp strike, he'd thought about her constantly, wishing that she'd come to him and mend the broken man. But she hadn't, not until a worthy adversary had threatened to steal him entirely from her. "We would have broken up anyway. It's what we do. . .we break up and make up and it isn't going to change."

She knew it was true. From the beginning they had set the pattern and learned to live with it until he threw that curveball that had scared her to death. The type of commitment that Harm wanted Diane hadn't been ready for and still wasn't ready for. Yet, she was willing to try if it meant keeping him away from Mac. "So, just like that, I am out of your life?"

"Diane, no." Harm chuckled at the implication. She was one of his closest friends and confidants. Perhaps it was foolish of him to even suggest it, but Harm wasn't quite ready to terminate all connections so indefinitely. "We started as friends and I think we can stay friends."

"Friends?" At his nod, she bit back a cringe. After the amazing sex that they'd shared the night previous, all he wanted was friendship? Alright, fine, so she _had_ been the first to throw in the towel and back peddling certainly wasn't a smart idea given the unkind words she'd uttered, but to be 'just friends' was almost like the kiss of death. "I think we can do that, yeah." And still, she didn't want to lose him completely. At least, in the 'friend zone' there were possibilities, however remote they may currently seem.

Diane leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips before straightening. "I'd better get going before I decide to ravage you."

Considering that his nerves were already frazzled over Mac, he replied "Yeah, that may be a good idea. . . Just close the door on the way out." He wouldn't dare walk Diane to the door, chances were things wouldn't just end there. They never did with her.

Sighing deeply, he slid down on the sofa, laying his head on an armrest. Feeling Mac's skin was one of the most heavenly experiences of his life. With that thought in mind, he drifted off into a peaceful slumber.


	9. The Dragon Lady

**Yes!! It's up!! Sorry that this one took so long. Work, writer's block and a need to go over legal jargon left this in Jag Fanfic limbo… but we're back on track. I hope. ;)**

**Special thanks to Janlaw for assisting with said legal jargon. You rock!!**

**And as always, kudos to V for putting up with me. :D**

**Okay, in looking for the ultimate prosecutor, I dug deep into the JAG team and figured that the absolute best would definitely be the Dragon Lady…**

**Enjoy!**

**Jackie**

**Chapter 9 – The Dragon Lady**

**1015 Local  
****Courtroom C  
****JAG Headquarters  
****Falls Church, Virginia**

It had never occurred to Harm that he would ever fear a woman other than his mother and his grandmother until he met Captain Alison Krenick. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. As you will soon learn from the evidence and witnesses the government will present, this general court martial is not just about pilot error, but involuntary manslaughter as the result of culpable negligence."

Krenick's low, raspy voice sent a chill down Harm's spine and for good reason. The Captain hadn't gotten her nickname – The Dragon Lady – for nothing. He'd read an article or two about the woman – one of JAG Corps' most senior female officers - that had appeared in the Navy Times. A former Chief of Staff for Admiral Chegwidden, Krenick was now Commanding Officer to the Trial Service Southwest based in San Diego. The government had brought in the big guns. "The prosecution will show that Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior decided to fly a mission despite emotional, physical and mental problems that were affecting his performance."

As far as he'd been notified, the government's previous attorney – Alan Mattoni, had been removed from the case for reasons that hadn't been properly explained. The man hadn't even lasted a day before the Judge, Rear Admiral Stiles Morris. "You will hear testimony from several witnesses who saw and heard the Commander engaged in several arguments in the days prior to fateful mission. One such argument with Lieutenant Mace, his RIO and the ultimate victim of Lieutenant Commander Rabb's ill-fated decision to fly. The combination of a poor emotional state combined with high tension proved to be lethal. Testimony from Lieutenant Diane Schonke, a former girlfriend and Naval Academy classmate of the Commander will clearly establish how Lieutenant Commander Rabb's negligence cost the death of his RIO, Lieutenant Jason Mace and necessesitated multimillion dollar repairs to the Patrick Henry. Not to mention the loss of an F-14 Tomcat."

Harm cringed at the sound of Diane's name and attempted to drown out Krennick's words. Diane thought that she'd end up as a prosecution witness, it just happened, or so she'd said when he arrived at her doorstep one day prior, wanting answers that she couldn't give. Mattoni had confronted her days earlier with written orders to appear and testify while Mac had tried everything possible to keep the woman from making an appearance in court. She was that one loose canon who Mac couldn't rely on to remain neutral for Harm's benefit which is why she'd decided against calling her a defense witness.

Unfortunately, Captain Kohanek was much too thorough and had given up a piece of his personal investigation that he'd originally hidden from Mac. She didn't want to believe that it was all just a sham and that Harm was being made the patsy in order to protect Senator Mace and her son's name. But, it sure seemed to be looking that way.

The end of Krennick's opening statement barely registered when Harm became aware of movement next to him as Mac stood and walked towards the members, her manner poised and confident. "Accident. . . Despite the many ways the prosecution will attempt to portray the ramp strike, the bottom line is that this was an accident. The controlled chaos that is a Naval aircraft carrier is not infallible to accidents and injuries. When we head off to sea, we know the dangers and embrace them because this is the life we chose with a job we love. The defense will show that Lieutenant Commander Rabb didn't intend to harm his RIO. Lieutenant Mace, fearing for his own life had jumped the gun and precipitously pulled the ejection handle causing Commander Rabb to lose control of the aircraft. . .We will show that the Commander's state of mind was stable, that there were no impediments to his ability to fly. This was nothing more than a tragic accident which threatens to take one of the Navy's finest pilots out of the sky. That, ladies and gentleman is something that we can not afford to do. Many more lives depend on the men and women that operate off our aircraft carriers. Thank you."

Feeling much better after Mac's passionate opening statement, Harm's mood took a nose dive once Krennick called in her first witness. "The prosecution calls Lieutenant Diane Schonke to the stand."

His heart fell into his stomach. "Oh no."

"It'll be alright." Beneath the table, Mac pressed her had to his own and squeezed reassuringly. "I get a crack at her too."

While Diane was being sworn in, Harm could see an occasional glance at his direction. He wasn't too sure she wouldn't lie on the stand. The recent weeks he'd seen something more to her that was truly starting to worry him. It made the feeling of guilt over sleeping with her that much harder to handle. He only hoped that the jealousy he'd noticed at his apartment a few day prior wouldn't showcase itself at this inopportune moment. "How do you know the Commander?"

Diane turned to Harm and smiled. "The Commander and I both went to the Naval Academy, ma'am. . . We've been close ever since."

Mac resisted the urge to groan, the woman was already using the wrong words which Krennick was quite likely to exploit. "Explain 'close.'"

"We were friends and then it progressed to something else."

"Such as?" Krennick pressured on, knowing full well that an objection was headed her way.

Mac stood quickly. "Objection. . .The witness' relationship with the defendant is not pertinent to this case."

"Major, the witness opened herself up to those type of questions by stating that she and the Commander had a 'close' relationship. Objection denied. . .Proceed Captain and tread lightly."

Krennick turned back to Diane. "Do you need me to repeat the question, Lieutenant?"

"We became lovers. . .It's not exactly a secret, plenty of people knew that we were together."

"Was it serious?"

"Sometimes. . .Other times. . .I felt pressured by Harm to make us a more permanent thing."

"So you weren't exclusive."

Diane smirked, "Sometimes. . .We seemed to miss more than connect. It's difficult to have a functional relationship while he's in the Atlantic and I'm in the Pacific."

Krennick grinned. "Yes, that's often the problem with military relationships." And she would know, having gone through a few rather inappropriate ones herself. "Did you and the Commander argue."

That was it, the straw that had broken the camel's back to to speak. "Your honor." Mac protested, but was again motioned down.

Admiral Morris glared that the Navy Captain. "Captain Krennick, is this recitation of social interactions going somewhere?"

"There is, sir. . .I just need the Lieutenant to answer a few questions."

"Wrap it up." Morris commanded and then settled into his chair comfortably. He knew this would be somewhat of a freak show and that he was being asked to give both sides a little leeway, but this was ridiculous and though the Major had every right to complain, he was mildly curious. At the same time, he didn't want to commit a reversible error.

When Krennick turned back to Diane, she answered immediately. "Yes, we argued, find a couple that doesn't."

"When was the last major argument that the two of you had?"

Harm's stomach lurched again with a furious intensity that he'd felt the first time he'd entered the centrifuge for pilot training. He understood what Krennick was going to do and still questioned his own mental status during the flight. Maybe he shouldn't have climbed into that cockpit? "A couple of weeks before the accident."

"So, the Commander was stressed?"

"Objection, the Lieutenant could not possibly know Lieutenant Commander Rabb's state of mind."

Krennick rolled her eyes and rephrased her question. "Did the Commander mention to you that he felt stressed?"

"Not verbally, but Harm did seem a little rough around the edges." It was not to say that Diane actually enjoyed being up on the stand, she just didn't want Mac to win. "He did mention not sleeping much."

Mac again objected. "Your honor, the witness is describing an incident that she herself says took place several weeks before the accident. There's no showing of any nexus to the accident weeks later. I request that the witness's testimony about the argument be stricken and the members instructed to disregard."

Judge Morris agreed finally seeing that Krennick's path was leading no where.

Once the judge finished giving instructions to the members, the Dragon Lady paced towards Harm and Mac, stopping a few feet short of their table. She smiled at Harm and considered Mac for a moment – the woman was lucky to have such a good looking client. "Did something happen the day of the accident between you and the Commander?"

Harm cringed again, that argument with her was going to be the end of his career and he knew it. Though he would have abhorred Diane lying to protect him, she could have been a little less honest about their argument or, at least, a little vaguer in her testimony. "I broke up with him, officially."

"How did he take the break up?"

Diane sighed, "Not well, I suppose. Then again, who actually takes a break up well?"

"Did he yell, scream, or threaten you?"

"Threaten, no. But, we did have an argument and most of the officer's mess heard it. . .I don't blame him for being upset. It may have been the most inopportune moment to make such a decision."

Krennick tried to look sorrowful over the state of their relationship, but instead seemed pleased by it. "Thank you, Lieutenant, nothing more."

As much as Mac would have liked to have leaned on Diane, there wasn't much to lean into her about. All the discoveries had been made and she'd been, effectively, backed into a corner. There was something more, Mac knew, but had been unable to find what the missing key to the puzzle was. So, rather than annoy the members with more questions to Diane, she did what she thought was right. "The defense has no questions for this witness at this time. But I would like to retain the right to re-call the witness at a later time."

The Judge made a note in his blotter, "So noted. Lieutenant, you may step down. . .The government may call its next witness."

Krennick went through the usual motions, presenting witnesses to the crash and finally, Commander Brain Cuyler, the LSO on the platform during the accident. "No one wanted to fly with Lieutenant Mace." He answered Mac's first question as she began her cross-examination.

"And why was that?"

Cuyler glanced over at Senator Mace who was glaring at him with a hatred that only a mother with a lost son could muster. Noting that the man's concentration was suddenly off, she stepped into his line of sight, blocking Cuyler from seeing the Senator. "Why did the pilots, including yourself, not want to fly with Lieutenant Mace?"

"He wasn't very good, Major. . .He should have washed out at Pensacola. He should have _never_ been allowed on a carrier."

Mac nodded and then moved to the desk in a fluid motion. She reached for a file which was presented to the Judge. "This is an after action report filed by Commander Cuyler on January 22nd of this year. . . Commander, do you remember what happened on January 22nd?"

"I'll never forget. . .It was Lieutenant Mace's second cruise, he'd been transferred to the Atlantic fleet from the Pacific. . .The CAG ordered Mace to be my RIO and we nearly died as a result."

"Objection." Krennick stood up, glaring at Mac's sudden direction. She'd figured that, eventually, the defense counsel would try the tactic – shifting blame – but had hoped that the possibility of losing her commission or at least any meaningful future in the Corps to Senator Mace's ire, would be enough to hold back the tactic. "The Major is moving away from the scope of this case. . .Lieutenant Mace is not on trial."

"Overruled." Judge Morrison had become accustomed to ruling over complicated cases. He seemed to be the one that the Navy went to when politicians were involved. The man was tough, but fair and always wanted to hear all sides of the story.

Mac bit back a grin of victory and tread carefully through the next line of questioning. "What happened on January 22nd, Commander?"

"We were in the Indian Ocean doing a few training runs over deserts and mountainous regions where our troops were. . .We do the runs to become accustomed to their type of climate. . .Close to 2200 that night we headed towards a ridge. . .I couldn't see it and relied on Lieutenant Mace's skills. . .If I would have pulled up five seconds later, we would have been splattered into the mountain. . .That's why he earned the call sign 'Reaper.' As in the Grim Reaper. " Cuyler took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I filed that report with my flight gear still on. . . Imagine my shock when he was dumped on another pilot instead of being sent packing."

"If you're supposed to listen to your RIO, why did you pull up?"

"Because Lieutenant Commander Rabb, my wingman, told me to. . .His RIO at the time spotted the mountain and they both yelled for us to pull up. Harm saved our lives."

To the members, two of them which were former pilots, those words would be the last thing that they heard for the day. They would reconvene on Monday to continue hearing testimony from the government's witnesses.

Harm, however, was not pleased with Mac's tactic and told her so when they arrived at the sanctuary of her office. "What the hell was that?" He said as he crashed into one of the guest chairs across from the desk.

Bud slid into the other chair, while Mac leaned against the closed door. "That was a defense strategy . . .Why didn't you tell me that Reaper nearly killed Commander Cuyler?"

"We don't rat on each other, Major. No matter how bad something gets, it's not something a squadron does."

"Even if Reaper nearly killed Cuyler and you?"

Harm muddled over the question for a moment. The real truth lay on the feet of Reaper's death and the moral code which most people never broke. "Jason is dead. . .I'm not willing to dirty the guy's name to save myself. . .If he caused the accident and he's held accountable, the Navy will destroy what ever legacy is left of him."

A dull ache washed over Mac's heart, the conviction in his voice and the want to protect a fellow officer was truly heart warming. Few people would care if it meant saving their own skin. "Considering that nearly every one knows he was pushed through API and up the pipeline as an NFO _because _he's Sofia Mace's son, what legacy does he have left?" She walked across the room and pressed a hand to Harm's shoulder. "She sullied his name and possibly killed him."

"This case is about me, not Jace. . .I flew the plane. I disobeyed an order from the LSO and I crashed the plane."

Mac sighed. She hated dealing with stubborn clients who failed to see the bigger picture. There was nothing more frustrating than having to make someone understand that the blame often was shared. "It takes two to tango and two to fly that damned plane. . .Reaper messed up."

Harm stood up quickly, coming nose to nose with Mac. "I _couldn't_ see. . .I couldn't see, Mac!" Anger made him quiver with every word and Mac saw his emotions clearly for the very first time. "Reaper may not have done his job, but _I couldn't see."_

"Sir." Bud, who had stood up along with Harm, stepped defensively between the two officers. ""The doctors could never completely determine exactly what had happened to you. . .The cat scan showed nothing wrong and you were in good health except for high counts of a stress hormone. . .You have to look at the bigger picture -- that Lieutenant Mace failed to do his job properly and may have been the one solely responsible for the ramp strike."

In his head, it was easy to believe that because, it had been the initial blast of Reaper's ejector seat that caused him to lose control for a split second. Split seconds were all you needed inside a high performance fighter jet before things went terribly wrong. But, in his heart, he couldn't shift blame on a dead man, no matter how bad the outcome. "Is there any other way, Mac?"

"No. . .The bottom line is that the Tomcat was nearly destroyed completely. Examination of the parts that were salvaged led the experts to conclude that there was no mechanical failure. If it's not mechanical, the usual next thing they'll point to is pilot error."

The barrage of emotions and feelings almost strangled him. Parts of him wanted to shift the blame entirely on Mace, the other wasn't sure who to blame. If it did take two to tango, then he still was at fault. Harm's shoulders slumped down in defeat. "I'm tired. . .I haven't slept well. . . I need to get out of here. I'll. . .I'll see you on Monday." He bent down and grabbed his cover which had fallen to the floor.

"Harm." Mac wrapped a hand around his bicep and tugged him to face her. "This wasn't your fault. . .Things happen. It was an accident."

Harm nodded in agreement, the look in his face stating just the contrary. "Tell that to Senator Mace who's son I killed. . .Have a good weekend." He stepped out of her office without much fanfare.

Somehow, his car pointed him through Washington DC, winding up in the brick covered ally outside of McMurphy's. The stench of stale beer and cigarettes mixed into a welcomed concoction suited to his current mood. He found a booth situated in the darkest corner that he could find. It was early still, the sun had roughly five more hours before it disappeared into the horizon. Perfect time to be in a bar, if you wanted to be alone. The crowds wouldn't start hurrying in for traditional Friday evening Happy Hours yet.

A young waitress, probably in her early twenties, came towards him with a happy smile and an appreciative glance. "What would you like, sugar?"

"A double shot of bourbon and whatever you have on tap."

As the waitress made to turn away, she nearly collided with a man who seemed so out of place with his three piece suit and expensive shoes to boot. "I'll have Cognac, thank you."

"Webb? Aren't there any bars close to Langley?. . .Ah, I get it, you came here just to harass me." He scowled when the agent slid into the booth across from him. "Sure, sit down."

"Thank you." Webb undid the buttons to his suit and spread himself out on his side of the booth. McMurphy's was defiantly _not_ his type of bar. Men with wealthy families, and his was one of the wealthiest from the CIA community, spent the time in high class lounges complete with properly mixed martinis and complimentary champagne. "So, Mac decided to shift blame to Lieutenant Mace? It's a good tactic. . .Iy will probably blow up in your faces, but it's a good tactic."

Harm snorted, "Mac's a good lawyer. And why _are_ you calling her 'Mac' anyway? I didn't think that JAG officers were so chummy with CIA creeps."

Webb grinned, "They're not. . .Only Navy pilots with special skills are. . .Not that it's your business, but Sarah and I dated for a while."

Harm's head snapped up, now that was news to him. Mac and the CIA's 'go to' boy, an item? The notion made him want to slug the agent. "You're right, it isn't any of my business."

"We broke up. Apparently, she was just using me." The smug expression made it clear to Harm that Webb was rather pleased with the outcome. Most likely Mac was just another notch on his belt – a pretty Marine Major who he conquered. Yes, the want to slug him was just growing by the second. "Thank you." He smiled at the waitress and gulped down half of the cognac. "Keep them coming."

Harm swallowed down the bourbon in one big gulp and then turned his attention to the beer. "Not to be terribly rude, Webb but, is there something you want? I highly doubt you really give a shit about my case."

"I don't. But, I do give a shit about your pilot skills." Those skills he had seen first hand, when Harm had been tapped to fly a top secret CIA plane over Russia. The aircraft had malfunctioned and nearly plunged to it's demise until Harm's quick thinking sent the plane airborne again. Ever since the CIA had tried to procure him from the Navy, but the allure of the F-14 and sea life could not be overcome. "Look, this isn't going to end well for you. Mac may be a great lawyer but Senator Mace is going to bury you because she can. Legal or illegal, the woman will find a way to destroy you."

"I trust Major MacKenzie. . She knows what she's doing and she will make sure that. . ."

"She's good but, this is out of the Major' hands, Harm. . .Even God himself would fail. The odds are stacked against you." Trying not to be sucked into Webb's preaching, Harm just stared at his beer mug, hoping for answers that he couldn't seem to find anywhere. To get his attention, Webb slammed his fist into the table and then reached across to grab Harm by his shirt collar. "The Navy is going to bury you. . .Can you live out the rest of your life in Leavenworth?"

Harm pushed the spook away, the fire in his eyes a testament of how much he hated the man. "Don't ever touch me again, Webb."

Webb held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry. I just wanted to make sure that you were listening." He settled back into his side of the booth momentarily stopping the onslaught. Then, out of the blue, the shining of Harm's gold wings caught his eye and a vague memory of Harm's past gave him a second wind. "Harm. Your name. Your _father's_ name is on the line. . .you will be dishonorably discharged. The Rabb name dragged through the mud. I have an alternative that will help you keep your legacy as well as your pension from the Navy."

"I know what you're after, Webb."

"Can you imagine flying top secret military planes? Stealth planes that rival anything you've ever seen? Think about going hypersonic. . .The Aurora?"

"That doesn't exist."

If the smirk that Webb sported meant anything, he knew differently. "Says who? The government? I got news for you, Rabb. . .There are some planes out there that will rock your world."

Flying for the Navy was spectacular, incredible and absolutely exhilarating. But, that brief stint working for CIA's avionics sector and piqued his curiosity. His reputation for being a cowboy often damaged his Naval persona, causing immeasurable problems with high ranking officers. This case, if anything, would be the final nail to his coffin and deep inside, despite Mac's reassurances, he knew it was a crap shoot. "What do you suggest?"

Webb let out the breath that he was holding and just managed to maintain his smug grin from showing fully. Managing to bring Rabb over to the 'dark side' would boost his career immeasurably. "Plead guilty to any charges. I will _personally_ make sure that you do no time and that your name isn't towed through the mud. . .If I have to blackmail someone I can and I will."

If resorting to blackmail was high up on the CIA's list, then this was bigger than Harm could have imagined. "Why do you need me so bad?"

"Because, few men are true heroes. You have the balls to get things done no matter the outcome. . .You are the _best_ fighter pilot out there at the moment. Why not work for someone who actually appreciates your talents instead of bringing you up on bogus charges?" Reaching into his pocket, Webb pulled out his wallet, fished out two twenties and placed them on the table. "Drinks are on me. . .Hurry with an answer. It's not an open ended offer."

Without so much as another word, Webb headed out of McMurphy's leaving Harm with a mass of decisions. The Navy was his life. Could he up and leave it so easily?


	10. Alter Ego

Keep a punching bag ready for the ending of this part. ;)

That's all I am saying.

It looks like either two or three more chappies until we conclude.  
But, knowing me, you need the angst. It's an addiction, sue me. ;)

I've been working every day since Saturday and I am exhausted. I  
guess the light at the end of the tunnel is that my check will  
probably be very nice when I get paid next Friday but, until then, my  
body is like whipping out a white flag.

Ah well, suck it up!!!

Have a great week guys!  
Jackie

PS: Enjoy. ;)

**Chapter 10 – Alter Ego.  
2213 Local  
****Harm's Apartment  
****North of Union Station**

Free to vegetate for the weekend, Harm wasn't expecting any company. He'd unplugged his phone and was content to be oblivious until Monday morning rolled around. A knock on the door severed all of that and he was a little surprised to find Mac standing on the other side. "Major, I don't want to know anything about the case until Monday. Please respect that."

"Can I come in?" A half smile and the soft look in her eyes drew him in. Damnit, whether he wanted to or not, Mac was coming in.

He pushed the door wide open and stood to the side. "Sure. Come in." Harm didn't expect a kiss on the cheek or the light touch on his arm but both actions comforted him. "Why are you here, Major?"

Mac turned around slowly, her smile fading. "So it's 'Major' now?"

"I know why you're here. I don't need you to make me feel better. . .Court's been a train wreck and. . ."

Waving him off, she settled onto the sofa with a deep sigh. "Actually, your case is not the reason I'm here." She waited for him to come closer and settle into the chair just next to the sofa. "I heard that you went to McMurphy's afterwards."

"Stalking me?"

"No. . .Bud and Harriet were there and saw you sitting with none other than CIA scumbag, Clayton Webb."

That was the problem with Washington, everyone knew everything. "I should have stayed in the PACFleet. Much quieter over there."

"Nevertheless, why were you talking with Webb?" It was hard to keep the disdain from her voice and even harder to marginally pretend to like the spook. Their one date came mainly out of curiosity as to why he was hounding after her when the man could have any woman in Washington. As she recalled, it didn't end well and the man went home with a broken nose to prove it.

Harm shuffled towards the bar and propped himself up on a barstool. "I hear the two of you dated for a while."

Okay, if the guy wanted to beat around the bush, she would play his game and treat him like she did all other clients who were hiding something. "_A_ date, as in _one_." To make her point she stuck her index finger in the air and then rolled her eyes. "And I wound up breaking his nose at the end of it."

"Oh. Webb conveniently left that part out." He couldn't keep the smug grin off of his face envisioning Mac, in a dress, punching the spook. Yes, it was one of those Kodak moments. "Did he deserve it?. . . No. Don't answer that. . .it's a dumb question. Of course he did."

Mac chuckled, "Well, when you say 'no' and a guy still tries to cop a feel, a girl has a right to defend herself. Girl Marines just do it with their fists."

"I wish I'd seen that." Webb wasn't necessarily a bad guy, but the whole bag of issues that stemmed from his family being so involved with the agency made the lines blur. There had been a time or two, mainly during the Gulf War, that Harm had started to lose touch of himself. Killing people, no matter how innocent or guilty, tended to have a profound effect on a person. He often muddled over the thoughts of his first kill – the joyful victory laced with the knowledge that he'd taken a human life. Was that what Webb was covertly asking him to do? Take lives? "Webb offered me a job."

"Oh no." She suddenly felt a sickness at the pit of her stomach. The Admiral had warned her about Webb and she took his lack of interest at court to mean that he was off of Harm's scent. Had he been waiting in the wings for her to make a mistake? "Please tell me you didn't take him up on the offer."

"Not yet." But there wasn't finality to his statement and Mac took it as an open ended answer. She pressed her hand to his arm. "Whatever he's offering you, this isn't the time to think about it."

"Maybe it's the right time." He couldn't look at her; couldn't admit defeat. "What chance do we have, Mac? Senator Mace is just going to rail road this whole thing. . .I'm going to lose everything."

It was hard not to feel saddened by his words. Days earlier, she'd discussed the topic of Harmon Rabb Junior at great lengths with Harriet and Bud. She'd come to realize that he was a strong man, with an excellent attitude and a 'never say die' spirit. The man that she'd come to know was someone totally different. The light in his eyes had been dimmed and nearly turned off completely. She'd seen this in many clients but never so profound in someone so headstrong. "This really got to you."

"I killed a man."

"No, you didn't, and you have got to stop believing that you did." She quickly reached inside of the briefcase that she was holding and pulled out a medical record with the word 'classified' written across in bold red letters. "Reaper had vertigo."

Harm's head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers and showing laced confusion. "What?" He reached for the file and thumbed through the records that went back for several years.

"When he was a teen Reaper suffered from Ménière's disease. It's a disorder of the inner ear that can cause vertigo. It affects balance and if not treated can cause very bad bouts of dizzy spells."

He swallowed hard as the words shot back at him. "How did you get these?"

"Someone owed me a _big_ favor. I collected." She'd been saving that favor for something worthwhile and a hunch had her checking on Mace's medical records to discover that the Navy didn't know Mace's little secret. "If Senator Mace knew of this and covered it up, then she killed her own son . .It makes perfect sense as to why one day he's fine and the other he's not. That's the account I received during the first investigation, I just didn't have evidence to base it on." Mac sat on the stool next to Harm and stared at him for a long moment. It all began to register with such sickening clarity. He'd been deceived, they all had – every one of them on the squadron.

"He was always getting sick. . .I remember him using some ear drops which he said was to take the water out after he showered. . .Damn." This was a tough blow to a man who was used to sharing problems with his backseater. Aircrews, for the most part, just didn't lie to each other. When you held the other person's life in your hands, honesty had always been the best policy. He never liked flying with Reaper, but he had given the man a fair shot and was starting to see Jason as a good guy, despite his flying problems. "He got sick in the back seat five weeks before the ramp strike. . .Said it was something he ate."

Mac nodded. "It could have been. Or it could have been the vertigo." Seeing the turmoil in his eyes, she placed a hand on his again. "You have got to stop blaming yourself. . .You _didn't _kill him. It was an accident and I will make sure that everyone knows that." Reaching over, she took the file away from Harm and tucked it back in the security of her briefcase. "Please don't mention that evidence to anyone. . .Monday I plan on calling up the flight surgeon. . .When I questioned him I had a gut feeling that he was hiding something."

Flight Surgeon Ted Marshall was a good guy, but Harm knew that the man could do his job just a little _too_ well. "Ted has a habit of handing 'go-pills' like Chiclets." He stared at the floor for a moment, contemplating the ramifications of everything that he'd recently learned. When he turned to look at Mac, the light in his eyes had begun to shine again and thoughts of joining the Agency began to fade. "You really believe I'm innocent?"

"Yes." She said without reservation and smiled brightly. "I honestly believe that you had nothing to do with the accident. . .The doctor can not find anything medically wrong with you and attributes your vision failure to stress. . .You would have landed just fine if Reaper hadn't panicked."

The air came out of his lungs with a loud "woosh" which he felt he'd been holding for weeks. "This is the best news I think I've ever had." He pressed a hand to his chest. "I've been blaming myself over and over again. Trying to find out what I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Harm. . .I am _so _sorry that you've been put through this." The look of relief in his eyes made her smile. It seemed like she managed to offer him the closure that he needed. Mac ignored the feeling deep inside of her, the one that made her want to draw him into her arms. She felt he needed that human contact, but opted to ignore it. Now was not the time to dwell on such feelings. "So, I'll see you Monday?" She jumped off of the stool and reached for the briefcase.

Her demeanor raised a red flag and Harm felt as if he'd suddenly suffered whiplash. "You're leaving?"

Mac grinned. "Did you expect me to move in?" It was a tongue in cheek comment, but she didn't care.

"Ah, well. . .No, but. . ." It was cute that he was suddenly flustered. Before she could make her getaway, Harm pointed his thumb towards the stove. "I was going to make dinner before you stopped by. . .Maybe you could join me?"

"Dinner?" She hadn't eaten anything past toast and coffee and that had been at around seven am. The idea of food, any food, suddenly made her stomach growl.

Harm nodded. "Yeah. . .I was going to make a rosemary lemon chicken. Wild rice, some veggies. . .a glass of. . .wi" He was going to say 'wine' but caught himself just in time ". . .water." Offering up his best flyboy smile, he knew she'd be a goner when he offered the pièce de résistance. "Oh, and I have this chocolate cake that I bought. . .Supposed to be gourmet."

Damn. The man was good and the chocolate cake was just the pinnacle of the whole dinner planning thing. Her stomach was already protesting and it sounded wonderful, "How long until dinner?" It was rude question, considering that he was inviting her, but weariness was catching up and the only thing that Mac was longing for, besides food, was a good ten hours of sleep.

Harm moved quickly off of the stool and headed around the island. "Should be done in about half an hour. . .The chicken has been marinating since last night. The rice and veggies I can just pop in the microwave." Oh, he was good, damned good. Why did he have to be her client? If things were different, Mac would have asked him to marry her on the spot.

She chuckled at the thought and placed the briefcase on his recently vacated stool. "Okay, I'm sold."

An hour later the pair sat on Harm's sofa, each on one end holding a desert plate where a decadent piece of chocolate cake sat. The apartment smelled of freshly brewed coffee which wafted from the carafe on the coffee table. "Mmmmmm. . .This is _sooo_ good." Mac savored the chocolate mixture, her eyes closed and head leaned back. She then proceeded to lick the chocolate icing off of the spoon in such a manner that brought a flush to Harm's cheeks.

He briefly wondered if that's what she looked like every time she felt pleasure. It occurred to him that this had been the second time which he'd thought the same thing. The last time was at the bagel shop where she'd been going on and on about sun dried tomatoes. Nevertheless, he was enjoying the view, to say the least. "Glad you like it." And he was even more glad that his voice didn't waver too much.

When she was finished, he took the plate and headed into the kitchen. Harm took a moment or two to wash the dishes before heading back to his guest. What he found put a smile on his face.

Mac was leaning back, her head supported against her arm which was propped up against the sofa. Her breathing had regulated to a slow rhythm and all signs of stress appeared to be gone during sleep. She looked heavenly to him. Her facial features delicately glimmering in the soft light. "Mac?" He whispered, hoping not to awaken her too roughly. Twice he called her name before hearing some sort of murmur as a response.

He wasn't sure how pissed off she would be that he didn't wake her, but didn't quite care. Instead, he opted to do something that would surely earn the Marine's ire. Again, he just didn't care. His arms snaked under her body and carefully lifted until she was draped against him. He slowly walked through the apartment and up the two steps to his bedroom. Glad that he'd washed the sheets the night previous, he set her in the center of the bed and then pulled the covers up to her chin. "Good night, Marine."

This was wrong and he knew it, but it was doubtful that anyone had followed her and even more difficult to believe that anyone cared about the nature of their relationship. Mac was a top notch attorney and, if rumor had it, he was still with Diane. He snorted at the thought as he flicked off the light to his bedroom.

Quietly, he took his sleeping clothes out of the closet and headed into the living room with an extra blanket and pillow. The sofa would be hell on his back, but it would be even more hell to sleep next to a woman that he was finding himself extremely attracted to. As he changed clothing, he tried not to think about the way her luscious lips closed around the spoon full of chocolate. Or the way her tongue darted out to lick away the remnants. Most of all he tried not to think about her prowess in court and the ease with which she confronted such a public setting.

If Diane was the history, maybe Mac was the future? It was clear to him, especially after a night spent in Diane's embrace, that they really never had anything other than great sex. With that thought in mind, he killed the rest of the lights and tried to sleep.

His slumber didn't come easy and through fits of sensual thoughts, he believed to have conjured up his most awesome fantasy. There she was, walking towards him, dressed in a nightie that hugged every curve so very well. His eyes, now adjusted to the darkness, acted like radars who found their target. "Wow." The bit of city light which shone through the windows illuminated her just enough and his imagination made up the rest. "You look. . .incredible." That was as much as he was able to get out before she slid onto his lap.

Her lips assaulted his own, kissing, teasing, breaking through each of his barriers with the ease of a missile. His hands eagerly roamed her body, searching and finding every bit of naked flesh that he could. "Are you sure?" He breathed out and received a moan as an answer. "Oh, Mac."

The moment he said her name, she pressed her lips harder against his own assaulting him with an overly aggressive kiss. "Mac, we can take it easy." He didn't want to rush this. Something in his heart knew that it was too important to screw up. This was it for Harm, the woman that he'd secretly been waiting for. After that stupid case was over, he was going to make sure that he got to know her in every which way possible, starting with a date.

That thought in mind, he tore his lips from her own and settled back into the sofa, holding her at bay. "Mac, as much as I hate to admit it, we can't do this." There was too much at stake, mainly her career which he was determined not to destroy in order to fulfill a primal desire.

But, she tore lose from his grip and resumed the assault on his lips again. Those kisses were hard to resist and soon he delivered his own, trailing down her neck and to the valley of her breasts. He reached under the silky material that was covering her body and eased it up and over. She bore her nakedness to him as if this were a daily occurrence in their lives. Though he enjoyed the trust, there was something definitely wrong. The warning bells had barely begun to ring in his head when he heard a voice coming from the steps of his bedroom. "Harm?"

"Mac?" It couldn't be her and if it was, this was most definitely a dream. But, dreams weren't this vivid and this real. He could smell her, taste her and. . .

Bright light blinded him and for the briefest of moments he felt like this was some sort of cosmic joke. The realization was much more cruel. "Oh." He turned his head to the woman at the steps of his bedroom and then turned back to the other woman that was sitting, completely naked on his lap. Both women had the same face. "I've got to go." The woman on the steps headed towards the door and slipped on her heels which he'd deposited on a mat next to his tennis shoes.

The warning bells were going off again, this time so much more pronounced. He had to do something, had to stop the right woman from leaving. "Mac, wait!" He stood up at once, the quick motion causing Diane to slide off of his lap and onto the hard floor below. Ignoring her, he stepped past and ran to the door which was slammed in his face. The irony was not lost on him as he headed into the hallway only to find that the elevator had started to descend - another piece of irony. "Great, _today_ the damned thing decides to work!"

He took the stairs two by two and managed to get to the bottom in time to find Mac stepping out of the building. "Mac, wait!"

She turned quickly and stopped so suddenly that he collided against her. The closeness was welcomed in her part – it made it that much easier to slap him. "I'll see you in court, _Commander._" She used his rank with disdain and managed to almost freeze him in his place.

Harm watched as her Jeep sped out of its parking space and onto the slick streets. It was then that he realized that it had been raining. The water was soaking him, making his clothes cling almost uncomfortably. "Oh God. What have I done?" Ragged breathing grew, as did the anger within him. He'd dealt with so much of Diane's childish tricks but this was the final straw.

Quickly, he raced up the steps and broke through his open door like a man on a mission. "Diane!" He found no trace of her in the living room or the kitchen and knew that her current location was undoubtedly between the sheets of his bed.

Of course, that is exactly where he found her, naked and waiting with a Cheshire grin. "You know, I normally don't like to lay on sheets that smell like another woman. But, I have to admit, it's a turn on."

Her comment made his stomach churn. How could he have been so blind for so long? "Get up." How could he have ever loved her? "I said get up." Harm's voice left no room for argument but he knew there would be another gauntlet to run.

"Okay." She moved to her knees and crawled towards him, her body moving almost serpentine. "You're not mad at me, are you?"

Harm chuckled and shook his head, his scowl turning into an expression of amusement. "Nope. . .Not at all." Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around her waist and tightened his grip. His head moved close to hers and eyes that could make any woman surrender locked onto her own. "I." He leaned even closer. "Am." Lips touched her ear. "Furious." He breathed out and a split second before his statement registered, Diane was being lifted off of the bed.

"Wait!" She squealed as Harm dropped her unceremoniously outside of his apartment door. When she tried to follow him back in, she was met which a whack on the face, courtesy of the trench coat she'd worn above for the drive over. "Harm!" The second whack came from the nightie. "Damnit! Wait!"

When Harm felt her hand wrap around his arm, he nearly did something very stupid. As it was, it took all of the power within him not to strike the woman. "No, Di."

"Let me explain." She pulled the nightie back on and then proceeded to don the trench coat.

Harm shook his head. "You _knew_ Mac was here."

Diane wouldn't even deny it. "Yes and when the lights went out and she never left. . ."

"You thought we were sleeping together." He could imagine all of the dirty details that her sick little mind was adding to the equation. He suddenly felt like a heel for even fantasizing about Mac. "She's my lawyer."

"And you're attracted to her. . .It's not long before the two of you hit the sheets and I lose you forever." There, she'd said it. Truthfully, Diane never really cared about the relationship as a whole, but the thought of completely losing Harm was almost unbearable. He'd meant a lot to her as a friend and would be damned if some look alike took him away. She'd always been the jealous type, managing to sabotage nearly every relationship he'd ever been in. The other woman never deserved to have a man like him.

"I love you." And with those words she reached for him, arms snaking around his middle, head resting against his chest. They fit well together, almost like a glove.

Almost.

But, she didn't realize that Mac fit perfectly against him. "I don't love you, Diane." Harm was amazed at how easily those words came from his lips. Inside, he could feel the butterflies freeing from their cocoons. All of the years enthralled by Diane and it took a Marine lawyer to set him free. "It's over. . .We're over." He stepped back away from her and then grabbed roughly to her wrist. "You need to go."

Against her protest, the woman could really dig her heels in, he led her through the living room and out the door. It would be another twenty minutes before the banging and shouting ended, but it was well worth it.

Hoping that Mac would understand the occurrence, he tried to call, only to find that she'd left her cell phone which was now ringing wildly inside of her briefcase.

**0120 Local  
****Mac's Apartment  
****Georgetown**

Mac had never been the type to disrespect her uniform. Even when it needed to be laundered, she'd hang the skirt and jacket and took care of the medals and ribbons. She would never unceremoniously leave the clothing in a wet pile by her door. Yet, that is exactly what she did.

Shivering, she stepped through the dark apartment and slid into her bed disappearing beneath the covers. It wasn't particularly cold inside her home and yet, she couldn't seem to get warm. The cold seem to emanate from the very centre of her.

Mac was tough, but her hard exterior came with a mountain of emotions that she could hold in check only for so long. Tears burned her eyes and the harsh reality that Diane was still a part of Harm's life struck her hard. She didn't know what to expect from him but had held a hope that, once the case wound down, they would do something about the mutual feelings they shared.

Maybe she was a fool to believe in anything, especially after seeing the signs in Belleville when the other woman had so neatly taken him away from her. She'd walked away then as well. Perhaps that had been the mistake?

This is why she'd sworn off love, for fear of feeling a pain so hard that it took her breath away. Physical pain she could endure because it almost always faded.

Heartache would last a lifetime.

Once the case was over, she vowed never to cross paths with Harmon Rabb Junior ever again.


	11. NoGo

**Woooo!! Long enough of a wait huh? Yeah yeah yeah. Enough excuses. I should have the last two chappies up within the next two weeks providing work doesn't get in the way. We're "rebuilding" the company from scratch, pretty much. Going on our own. deep sigh Anyway...**

**Here's the next chappie, thanks to V for the betaing and to Janlaw for the any legal advice. ;)**

**Enjoy!**

**Jackie**

Chapter 11 – "No-Go" 

**0920 Local  
****JAG Headquarters  
****Falls Church, Virginia**

What was left of the weekend had crawled by so slowly it seemed as if time had stopped altogether. Harm had never been the type to beg or plead and yet, that is exactly what he had done over Mac's answering machine. None of his messages were ever responded to and late Saturday night he decided to give up and wait until Monday morning.

They were scheduled in court at 10 am and though he had tried to arrive at JAG early enough to speak to Mac, traffic had another idea. He was glad that as her client, he was allowed to step into her world or else he'd had to consider stalking her. The mess that Diane had made wasn't going to be easy to clean up, but he needed Mac to listen and understand that Diane was no longer a part of his life.

Finding her office door open, he took it as an invitation and stepped through only to find her missing. "Damn." Defeated, he slid into a guest chair and opted to wait. It wasn't too long before the timbre of her laughter echoed through the walls of JAG. The pleasing sound disappeared however, when she stepped into the office and stopped abruptly, causing Bud to slam into her.

Harm was up in a second, breaking her fall with the strength of his arms. "Major! I'm so sorry!" The junior officer's embarrassment only grew as the two senior officers met his worried gaze. "You stopped so suddenly and I had my head in the file. . ."

Mac waved off his ramblings and immediately stepped out of Harm's grasp. "It's fine, Lieutenant, accidents happen. Give us a moment and shut the hatch, would you?"

Bud gave her an odd glance. A second ago, she was mentioning finding a loophole in the case that she needed to fill him in on. This was quite a change considering that they only had a little over half an hour. "Uh, yes ma'am." Still, he dutifully did as told and closed the door behind him.

If it were a different location, Harm would have brought flowers or some other peace offering. At the moment, he had nothing but words. "What you saw. . .I didn't know it was her. . .I thought it was you."

"I don't care." She lied. The memory of that evening was permanently engraved to her memories. The feelings it invoked filled her with a rage that she would have to control or it would threaten to take everything from her. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters . . .It matters a lot." He wanted to argue and hammer across that his relationship with Diane was null and void.

"Look, Commander. . .I'm your lawyer and that's where our relationship ends." She breathed deeply, trying to forget how it felt to kiss him or wake up on his bed with the masculine smell of his sheets. The evening in question she had felt so safe in his home. An almost overwhelming sense had come over her then and it was so tempting to invite him to bed with her. She'd managed to quash that want until she heard a disembodied moan that belonged to Diane Schonke. Mac wasn't prepared to see the woman naked on his lap. Something about that made her feel so dirty and so ashamed. She just couldn't believe that he was just an innocent bystander or that he didn't know it wasn't her. It sounded too much like something out of a bad soap opera. "It's none of my business who you want to date. Personal aspects of my client's life are of no interest to me unless they pertain to the case. . .I just _really _wish you weren't so _friendly_ with a witness."

He was hurt by her choice of words and the ice cold tone she'd used. "She let herself in. . .I didn't invite her." Harm defended, knowing how lame it all sounded, even to him.

What he got was more resistance and a sarcastic, "How convenient."

"Mac. . ."

The use of her nickname was the informality that she needed to break immediately. "It's _Major MacKenzie."_ She should have never entertained any notions or misgivings of her personal feelings. "Let's get a few things straight, _Lieutenant Commander Rabb._ . . I'm your lawyer, not your friend and not your. . . ." She trailed off before giving away any trace of her true emotion. 'Not your lover.' Mac almost said. "I'm your lawyer and I have work to do if I plan to get you out of this mess. . . I'll see you in thirty minutes."

He stared at her for a long moment, feeling sucker punched though she hadn't laid a hand on him. His heart broke a little bit and all he could think about was getting his hands on Diane and strangling the life out of her.

"Please leave." Mac punctuated and then slid into her chair and glanced at her computer screen, pretending to work.

He nodded and took his cover between his fingers. "I'll see you in court, Major."

Between the opened blinds, Mac could see his form, hunched over in retreat. It wasn't easy for him but it wasn't any easier for her. She only hoped that her next surprise wouldn't blow up in her face. With any luck, by the end of the day Bud would be first chair and she'd be completely off the case. Mac had gotten _way_ too close from the beginning. She'd let his looks and his charm break through the façade and now she was paying the ultimate price.

**1020 Local  
****Courtroom B  
****JAG Headquarters  
****Falls Church, Virginia**

"Lieutenant. Was there anything physically wrong with Lieutenant Commander Rabb?"

Lieutenant Ted Chalk was getting used to stepping behind the stand. Every time a pilot screwed up, it seemed that the flight surgeon was always questioned. As it was, this would be his fourth time in his relatively short career. He stared at the pretty Marine attorney in front of him and then let his gaze shift to Harm.

Mac's want to be removed from the case fell on deaf ears which was probably a good thing. She knew the case better than anyone could, seeing as she had a special interest in it. In all honesty, she hadn't put up much of a fight once she'd stepped into the Admiral's office and heard, yet another recruitment message from Langley. "They aren't going to get Commander Rabb, sir. . .I'll make damned sure of it."

"Semper fi, Major. Semper fi." Were AJ's final words as a determined Marine stormed out of his office and into battle.

Once sitting next to Harm, she asked him not to add pressure to the case by recounting details from the night previous. He had agreed and was dutifully silent as she went about her job. "I'll ask again, was there anything physically wrong with Commander Rabb?"

"No, Major."

Mac folded her arms and stepped into Lieutenant Chalk's direct line of site. "What is G-LOC?"

"G-LOC is an acronym for Gravity Induced Loss Of Consciousness. . . During certain maneuvers, the aircrew is subjected to High-Gs which pulls the blood towards the lower extremities and away from the brain. . . Pilots are trained to prevent this by breathing and tightening techniques. However, if the blood stoppage to the brain isn't controlled and lasts longer than five seconds, the pilot can blackout so severely that they'll even seize once they start to wake up. Sometimes it takes a full two minutes before psychomotor abilities return to normal. For a fighter pilot, that's too late. . . When they regain consciousness they've either had a good scare or become the next statistic."

"Could the accident have been caused by G-LOC?" She thought of the term the night previous and pooled some of Bud's research into the matter. From what she'd seen of the footage and audio, Harm was definitely not suffering from G-LOC. She chose to entertain the notion in the chance that Krennick had a new idea with which to lead.

Chalk shook his head. "Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Mace were on a training mission that day. It is very possible that they could have pushed past five Gs and that Commander Rabb G-LOCed as a result. However, an aircraft carrier, for all of its size is a relatively small place. Had Commander Rabb G-LOCed the whole ship would have known about it. Especially with Lieutenant Mace as his RIO." For effect he glanced towards Senator Mace's direction.

"Can you tell me what these are?" Mac reached over to Bud who was handing a plastic baggie with five orange tablets. She held the item up high for everyone to see and then brought to Chalk for further inspection.

"Dexedrine tablets. Within the aviation community, they are called 'Go-Pills.'"

Mac handed the baggie over to the judge and then returned to the witness. "And what do the 'Go-Pills' do exactly?"

"Go-Pills' are stimulants used to stop fatigue. They are handed to most pilots and RIOs before a mission and it is up to them whether to take the medication or not."

"Is there a certain dosage?"

"No more than 10 milligrams every four hours. In fact, we have to plan ahead to make sure each member of the flight crew has enough to sustain them during missions."

During her extensive research into Jason Mace, she'd found a few medical details that would not benefit from the use of Dexedrine. "Did Lieutenant Mace use Dexedrine?"

"Every time he flew."

Mac nodded. Sadly, there was one thing overlooked that may have stopped this mess before it even happened. "Off of the top of your head, what are the side effects of using 'Go Pills'?"

"Well, they can be addictive, which is why we monitor the use. Then you have the usual, nausea, diarrhea, vomiting, dizziness. . ."

"Stop." Mac ordered, satisfied that he'd come to the one side effect that mattered the most. "Dizziness as in vertigo?"

For Krennick, the questioning, which seemed to go no where, needed to come to an end. "Objection, hasn't this gone on long enough?"

Admiral Morris glared at Mac, "Major?"

"There _is_ a point to this, your honor." She assured him, silently praying that this would reveal a key piece of evidence that had been hidden away.

"Overruled. . . Answer the question, Lieutenant." The Admiral addressed the flight surgeon and then settled into his seat, curious as to where the answers would lead.

"The medication _can_ cause vertigo."

"Thank you." Mac headed over to Bud who held out a sheet of paper. "These are Lieutenant Mace's medical records. . .His _real_ medical records." She handed the sheet over to Chalk and then stepped back. "What is the diagnosis?"

"According to these records, Lieutenant Mace suffered from Ménière's disease."

Mac nodded. "From your medical expertise, what are the side effects of Ménière's disease?"

Alarmed by recent findings, Krennick came to her feet. "Judge, the government was not notified of this discovery."

Admiral Morris glared pointedly at Mac, curious as to when the information had been originally disclosed. "Is this true, Major?"

"It is, your honor." She walked towards the defense table and picked up the cover sheet of two faxes that were sent into her office. Both sheets were written by the Mace family's primary care physician, one dated the evening prior, the other, just five minutes before they stepped into the courtroom. "I first discovered the medical information about Lieutenant Mace's condition last night, but only received confirmation this morning." She handed the cover sheets to Admiral Morris who studied them. "I did not have a chance to speak to Captain Krennick."

Satisfied, Admiral Morris motioned towards the government. "Captain, would you like some time to look over these records?"

Krennick did not seem pleased at all with the turn of events. In fact, her face was flushed with anger and a sense of betrayal. "No, judge. We may proceed." She already knew about Reaper's medical condition as it was disclosed, in private, when she first interviewed Senator Mace. Allison had been informed that their primary care physician, a 'good' friend of the family who had made sure those records disappear. Either the man was a liar, or Mac was magician.

Trying not to smirk, Mac turned back to Chalk. "What are the side effects of Ménière's disease?"

"Well, it's a disorder of the inner ear. . .Those types of disorders may cause problems with hearing, balance and vertigo." He placed Reaper's medical file on the edge of the stand and sighed deeply. "The episodes of vertigo can be quite severe, in fact. It may last hours, even days."

"Could the 'go pills' exacerbate the episodes?"

Chalk frowned. "Yes. I believe so."

Mac took the medical file from and handed it over to Judge Morris who was stunned at the new revelation. This wasn't a case about pilot error anymore. "Nothing further. The defense rests."

Though Krennick knew that Mac's sleuth work had ripped a large hole in her case, she wouldn't allow blame to be shifted so easily. Especially not when she was so close to boosting her career with such an important win. "Lieutenant Chalk, did Lieutenant Commander Rabb use 'Go Pills'?"

"Not as often as Lieutenant Mace."

Krennick frowned, irritation settling. She asked the question again, with a more direct edge. "Did Lieutenant Commander Rabb use 'go pills'?"

Chalk squirmed in his chair, trying to find a comfortable way to stand her stare. "Yes."

"And did he use them prior to the incident in question?"

He remained silent for a moment, trying to recall something that seemed so long ago. In sick bay, he'd help tend to Harm's injuries but didn't recall seeing the pills again. "I don't know, Captain."

Krennick reached for a folder on her desk and pulled out a file that she'd requested once the discovery of Mac's evidence came into play. "I requested this file from the Patrick Henry this morning." She handed the file to Chalk and hoped that, this time, he would answer the question in her favor. "Is that your handwriting, Lieutenant?"

"It is."

The names of each pilot and RIO were listed in alphabetical order, last name first. Harm's was two lines before the bottom. "And in regards to Commander Rabb, what does this file indicate?"

Chalk sought out Harm's name and saw the squiggle of a number. "He was administered three 'go pills' before the mission."

"And how many were returned?"

"None. . . .but." He tried to interject, to remind the woman that evidence of those pills could have been lost after the crash.

Krennick never gave him the chance and quickly raised a sheet of paper over her head. "Here's Commander Rabb's toxicology screening. Though minute, there _were_ traces of Dexedrine." She turned to Chalk with a slightly malevolent gleam. "Is it safe to say that Dexedrine could cause side effects on a perfectly healthy individual?"

"Yes."

"So the Commander could have suffered any of the side effects you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes."

"Dizziness?"

"Yes."

"Vertigo?"

"Yes."

Satisfied, she handed the toxicology report to Admiral Morris. "Nothing further. The government rests."

After instructing the members, Admiral Morris released everyone until the verdict was decided. "What now?" Harm asked, his tone worried as he studied the darken shadows on Mac's face. She hadn't slept much, he could tell and knew that part of the reason had to do with him.

"We wait." She picked up her belongings and shoved them into her briefcase. "We have a conference room. . .We can order lunch and wait there for the verdict. . . Bud and I will start going over an appeal, just in case." They could have waited in her office or the patio outside of the building, but Mac preferred the conference table, where she could keep some space between them.

"Isn't that a bit defeatist?"

Mac pinned him with a glare. "I'm just keeping my client's options wide open." She glanced over at Bud and motioned towards the doors. "Escort the Commander to the conference room. I have a few calls to make before I join you." As she made her way out of the courtroom Mac didn't see Clayton Webb or the silly smirk he was wearing.

When she stepped out, he stood and sauntered towards the defense's table. "Mr. Roberts, may I have a minute alone with the accused?"

Bud's body tensed as it always did when he came in contact with Webb. He never liked the man, not since meeting him in the Admiral's office so many years ago. The agent had a pension for pushing buttons and meddling into Naval affairs when it suited him. Worse of all, he'd found the JAG family somewhat of a Mecca for new recruits. Especially where Mac was concerned. "I'm sorry Mr. Webb but I am under direct orders from Major MacKenzie _and_ Admiral Chegwidden to remain with the Commander."

Webb was slightly amused by Bud's 'big boy' voice and resisted the urge to chuckle. "C'mon Bud. I'm not the enemy here. I just want to make sure that the Commander still keeps his pension when this blows up in your faces." He gave Harm a pitiful glance. "The offer is open, Harm. . . You know what you have to do."

Harm was lost. Though Mac had made some headway in his case, Krennick, in his ears, sounded so convincing. Perhaps he would have put on a braver front had he _not_ taken the 'go pills' that Chalk had given him. Though he'd never felt any of the side effects, who's to say what really happened the day of the accident? He still wasn't sure he remembered all of it, doubted if he ever would. Christ, this was all so complicated.

It was difficult not to consider Webb's offer. The chance to fly, even if it was for the agency, was so tempting. As a test pilot he would be in the cockpit of vehicles that only existed in fantasy. There would no longer be rules and regulations. Very few, if any, orders to follow. He wouldn't be responsible for the deaths of innocents. No matter how it benefited others, he had killed with armament on his plane. He'd destroyed buildings and lives only to be called a hero for all of the chaos he'd inflicted.

Still, he believed in the cause, no matter how unjustified it seemed. He believed in what he did and was damned good at it. Now someone wanted to pluck him from the skies and destroy all that he'd ever be. Life was cruel.

In the conference room, he stood by the window, glancing out at graying skies. It seemed to rain more often than usual, or perhaps he only noticed ominous weather more readily now. "Major, I want to plead out."

Mac looked stung "What?"

"Webb is right. . .We're gong to lose this and I'd rather come out with some sort of dignity."

"There's no dignity in quitting."

"This is my life, not yours. . .I have the right to make a decision."

"You're right. . .it is your life. . .And I am trying to save it." The weight of her words wasn't lost on anyone in the room. Bud could only stand by watching in wonder. "Webb doesn't give a shit about you."

"Don't you think I know that?" Harm spat back, his ire over the situation was starting to reach its boiling point.

"Then why?" It dawned on her then, a reason for the resistance that was sparked three days previous when she'd walked in on something not meant for her eyes. "You don't trust me."

"And you have no faith in me." The sadness was difficult to mask, nor did he want to hide it. He hadn't intended on being with Diane ever again, much less with Mac in the other room. The whole thing made him feel cheap and used.

"Lieutenant, could you step out one moment." She waited for Bud to leave and then stepped closer to Harm. Her words were calculated and sharp, leaving no doubts as to her position in the matter. "What happened on Friday night has nothing to do with this case. . .I am not petty enough to let my anger corrupt my belief in your innocence."

"I thought she was you." Mac was so close to Harm that he could feel her breath on his cheek. It was tempting, so tempting to grab her and make her understand that Friday night had been a mistake. He would have taken the Neanderthal approach if he wasn't sure that it would probably mean a one way ticket to Bethesda with numerous broken body parts. "I should have known the difference, but I was so caught in the moment that I thought she was. . ."

Mac sighed. "It doesn't matter." She wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry, especially not over a man she met only a few months earlier. Certainly not over a client. That's all he was really, a client, even though her heart told her otherwise. "So we're attracted to each other. So what? When this case is over you'll go your way and I'll go mine. Two passing ships in the night." She couldn't afford to give herself to him and then deal with the repercussions after it didn't work out. Her heart wasn't that strong.

"It's not that easy. Not for me." He'd never felt anything quite like this. The complete want to give his everything to another. It was so unique, so wonderful. Couldn't she see that? She had to see that. "I've never felt this before, Sarah."

At the use of her given name, Mac nearly crumbled. As it was, her resolve was slowly starting to break. The only thing that kept her sane was her role in it all. She was his lawyer and as such could not become involved with a client. Feelings be damned. "You need to decide on what you want to do." She stepped back away from him and reached for her briefcase. "Webb isn't a bad guy, not really. But what he stands for doesn't match up to your standards. The agency will take your soul until there's nothing left but a shell of a man that was once considered a hero." Without another word, she stepped out of the conference room, leaving him to mull over his fate once again.

She was right, there was no dignity for quitters.


	12. Solitary Man

Hello my friends! Chapter 12 is short, Chapter 13 has some smut parts in it and it is being betaed. No excuses, I am sure you don't want to hear them but karma sucks... course it's our boss' karma that is running over our dogma, but whatever.

Enough to say that I have to head into the office at 8pm tonight to repair something because our comptuer, which should have been backed up anyway, crashed. sighs

Anyway... three things I am working on when I can. "The fine art of marraige" and the honeymoon section which will be a hoot. "Getting out of reverse" which has to do the probably in the winter of season 10 when Harm and Mac have an accident while it's snowing. Some cute scenes in there. And, Vampire Heart which I need to do some major work on and I am almost writing backwards... well. Backwards, sideways, upside down, etc. I have some middle chapter done which, believe it or not, is the smut scene. LOL!! More on that as we go along.

I am hoping to get some sort of freaking vacation so that I can work on the website, which will likely get all chopped down and just wind up being a FF/Harm & Mac site taht I don't have to work on too much. I really want to do a full JAG site with episode info and images, but, call me lazy.

So here we go... enjoy though it's short. :)

Jackie  
PS: THanks to JANLAW for the law jargon!

**Chapter 12 – Solitary Man**

**1345 Courtroom B**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

Much to Mac's relief, Harm decided to go ahead with the trial. Part of him wasn't sure that the move was a good one, but on the other hand, he wasn't about to hand the CIA his soul on sliver platter. "Hey buddy." As he stepped through the doors, he was greeted by a familiar and welcomed friend.

"Keeter." Harm took the offered handshake and resisted the urge to pull his friend into a 'manly hug,' a security blanket that he needed at the moment. At the very least, if the case went asunder, he would have support. "Can't tell you how glad I am that you're here."

"I was sitting in the back for the first half. . .Man, that lawyer of yours is good." He motioned towards Mac who shot a warm smile his way. "Any luck with her yet?"

"No." The answer was definitive, leaving no room for any type of askance. Harm didn't want to discuss the forays of Friday night or how Diane undoubtedly destroyed his life yet again. The topic would only enrage his friend's dislike of his former girlfriend. "She's my lawyer and let's leave it at that."

Keeter stood his ground. "You don't seem pleased with the idea."

"Once this is all over and I finally have a chance to breathe, I'll fill you in on the details. . .Just promise me you won't say, 'I told you so.'" He deadpanned and knew it would be the exact treatment he'd receive from Keeter. This time, more than ever, his friend was dead on.

"This has Diane written all over it." He'd seen it before, the destruction that the woman could leave in her wake once she couldn't get what she wanted. Keeter hated her for that and for toying with Harm without any sense of remorse. What he hated more, however, was his friend's inability to move on.

"Yes." Harm didn't dare deny it, for fear of what could possibly happen if he did. He wouldn't delude himself over Diane anymore. Especially not after that little trick she played on him, knowing full well that Mac was in his bedroom. It all reeked of desperation and he wasn't about to give into being a conquest for her. "It's over. For good this time. Adam isn't taking a bite of her apple again."

"Hmmm. Did you manage to tell _her_ that?" He pointed with his thumb to where Diane was seated. "Why is she here?"

Harm shrugged. "She was a witness for the prosecution." He didn't know if she was allowed into the courtroom for that reason or if she was only there to torment him. Whatever the case, it would make him _that_ much more nervous when the verdict was determined. "Look, I have to finish this. . .Whatever happens, drinks are on me?"

"When have you ever known me to bail on free drinks?" Keeter smiled and then clapped a hand against Harm's back. "Good luck, Harm."

Once he took his place at her side, Mac resisted the urge of pressing her hand against his arm. She wanted to comfort him but knew that physical contact would only exacerbate the feelings she held prisoner inside. She'd made the decision not to want him and she would stick to it, her heart be damned. "It was nice of Jack to come."

"Keeter's a good friend." Harm said and hoped that his displeasure of Mac calling Keeter by his first name didn't show on his face. It was a jealous emotion though he knew he had no right to it. Christ, if he'd just sent Diane packing when she met them at the airfield that one day, this would have never happened. He would have never slept with Diane, would have never allowed her to believe that they were a couple again. "We're going for drinks later, no matter the outcome."

Mac didn't comment. No matter the outcome she would be on her way home opting to wash away the day's proceedings with a hot shower followed by a bowl of chicken soup. She needed a detachment away from the case.

As confidant as Mac was that the members would see things her way, there was always that little bit of apprehension, especially with a case that could potentially be swayed with political help. She swallowed down a big gulp of water as the members filed in and took their seats in the jury box.

"Have the members reached a verdict?" Admiral Morris looked expectantly at the senior member who handed the findings worksheet to the bailiff.

"We have, your Honor."

Harm was positive that his heart had never beaten so fast before. The only thing more frightening was his first carrier landing. He turned towards Mac who he noted was holding her breath. That didn't bode well and a glance towards Senator Mace's expectant face, Harm knew that his life was over.

Admiral Morris took a brief look, his facial features remaining neutral as he studied the findings. He handed the sheet back to the bailiff and motioned for the paper to be returned to the senior member. "Will the accused and counsel please rise?"

Mac couldn't help the audible sigh as she stood. Tough cases usually took a lot out of her, especially when she was so sure her client was innocent. With Harm, she was glad that no one knew just how invested she was in the case.

"Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior." Hearing his name echo in the confines of the courtroom rushed Harm with a feeling of impending doom. Christ, he didn't want to work for the CIA. He'd rather spend his life piloting a crop duster. So many years of Navy training and it would be thrown away because of a man that never belonged in a plane to begin with.

"We the members find as follows: On all charges and specifications, not guilty."

There was a moment where time seemed to hang by a thread. It sank in that political demons couldn't win everything they put their money towards and that the good guys sometimes did finish first. The courtroom erupted then and Admiral Morris' gavel brought the proceedings to an end.

_Not guilty. _The words echoed within Harm, despite the loud cacophony that echoed in the chamber. To his right, Senator Mace was yelling angrily, something about having Krennick's eagles for her poor showing. He almost felt like defending the woman - almost - until he remembered that she had tried so hard to bury him.

Slowly, he found himself turning towards Mac who was staring at him expectantly. He let his breath out in a large gush and grabbed her in his arms, crushing her smaller body against his own. He hugged her fiercely. "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

Mac eased out of his arms with difficulty and managed to grab a breath before answering him. "I was just doing my job, Commander." It was a neutral answer in a tone that denied all of her confusing feelings over him, but her eyes were starting to water over. She felt the familiar burn in her eyes from unshed tears and knew that it was time to make a hasty retreat before the vultures assaulted her with questions. "Have a good life." She pushed past him, trying to head to the doorway until he maneuvered his body to block her.

"That's it? Have a good life?" He'd hoped that there was something more, but the determination in her face said otherwise. "Mac?. . .Mac? Please."

"I can't." She glanced up at him sadly and then stepped past onto the sea of people in her wake. Mac didn't answer questions from anyone and chose only to have a visual conversation with Diane. She glared at the woman as she passed and saw, what she knew, was a look of victory. Diane finally had the man that she wanted and Mac had lost.

Keeter managed to push past the throngs of people and arrive to the defense table only to find Harm slumping into a chair. "How's about that drink?" He slapped his friend in the back and waited for some sort of reaction to the victory. Instead, Harm sat there, utterly confused and hurt. "Harm?" He made no attempt at communication until someone else, a woman, called his name.

It was then that he whipped towards her, coming to his feet in seconds. "Congratulations, sailor. I thought my testimony had torpedoed you." Diane smiled up at him, opting for her charming approach that used to melt him. This time, it had the opposite effect. "So, who's buying drinks? You Jack?" She eyed Keeter suspiciously, knowing full well that the man didn't like her. It meant that he would not be joining them if she managed to drag Harm off and away.

Before Keeter could shoot off a witty returner, Harm was standing in front of her. He was deadly close, his voice dropping to a low hiss. "I used to think the world of you. Did you know that?"

Diane merely chuckled at his behavior and slapped his chest playfully. "Course I did. And you damned near traveled that world to be with me."

He had indeed, by requesting to change to a different squadron just so that he could share the same carrier with Diane. The change had happened so effortlessly that he believed fate had brought them together. Now he believe it was nothing more than keeping the Navy's ace pilot content. The move now seemed simply repulsive, if not completely psychotic. At once it seemed so romantic and charming.

"Don't. . . Don't touch me." He pushed her hand away as it tried to make contact with his forearm. He wouldn't strike a woman, his mother and grandmother had raised him better than that, however, it was difficult to control the rage he felt inside now. "Everything I've ever felt for you, it's gone. . . Completely gone."

She chuckled at the affirmation as if it were something he was saying only to get her riled up. As far as she was concerned, her 'twin' had lost and Harm was hers. "Harm, baby, we're good together. You know that."

"How long will we be _good_ for this time? A month or two? I used to _think_ we were good together. Now I realize that all you do is manipulate your way into people's lives. When you are through, you toss them aside without any care as to what they feel."

Diane smoothed her hands over his chest, stopping just short of his belt. She smiled at him and turned her head just slightly in a seductive manner. "I know you're a little upset about the other night. . ."

"Upset?!" Harm pushed her hands away. "I'm through." With that, he stepped past her and onto the people waiting to question his reaction on the case. "I don't want to see you again. Not now, not ever. I'm through." He threw over his shoulder and pushed his way past.

"You can't mean that!" Diane yelled and tried to head after harm only to be stopped by Keeter. "Let me go, you jackass! Harm!"

But Keeter stood his ground, blocking the path with his arms folded. "Dollface, I'm tired of doing nothin' and considering I was the moron who pushed him to hook up with you in the first place, I figure I owe him. . . Leave him alone, Di. There are other pilots out there for you to torture."

Diane raised a brow in question. "You saying you're interested?"

A deep rumble of laughter sounded from Keeter. "Not in this lifetime or any other thank you very much. . .Bye, Diane." He too turned away leaving Diane yelling like a mad woman, he chuckled at the spectacle and was confident that Harm wouldn't make that mistake ever again. If he did, well, Keeter will just have to beat him over the head with some sort of blunt object.


	13. End Of Our Craving

****

**Okay!! FINALLY!! It's done. I'm working on a few other things right now as I said the chappie before. Expect something probably this week. :)**

**Getting a lot of progress out of the vampie story and it will either have a sequel or be very long. ;) **

**Thanks to Vered for the beta work!! Love ya!**

**And special thanks to Janlaw for the lawyerly bits. **

**Enjoy gang!**

**Jackie**

Chapter 13 - End Of Our Craving.

**Three Weeks Later  
****1145 Local  
****Kerr Lake  
****Clarksville, Virginia**

"I'm losing my mind." Mac told herself as she flipped on the windshield wipers against the rain that was pounding her vehicle. _'This is _crazy' she thought, but did it anyway. Despite the long weekend, she was taking up some of the time she had on the books to find him.

It was a silly plight but something that had to be done. Things couldn't end the way that they had in the courtroom, and if Jack Keeter's impromptu phone call meant a damned thing, Mac needed to save Harm's career _again._ The news had arrived two days ago when Keeter had called to thank her over the verdict. "You kinda ran away there, Major. . .Didn't give me a chance to thank you for keeping my best buddy's ass out of a sling."

"It's my job." And though she'd been right on that point, it was more than just a job. Her feelings were interwoven with this one making the job difficult and then again, in some instances, easier. When she tried to get rid of Keeter, he'd hit her with something that she hadn't been prepared for. It made her feel worthless; as if the job she'd done had been all for naught. "Come again?"

Keeter had sighed heavily on the line as if his life were coming to an inappropriate end. "Yeah, Harm's not going to return to the squadron. . . The crazy son of a bitch decided to join the CIA."

"But, the review board reinstated his flight status. . .All he has to do are his carrier quals." She'd sounded desperate then and hurt, wounded even. Mac had fought so hard for him and now he was turning his wings in? "The Agency will suck the life out of him." She understood how difficult it had to be for a pilot to get behind the stick again after an accident of that caliber, but still, Harm wasn't a quitter. The thought made her sad and angry at the same time. "I need to get in touch with him."

"Yeah, well. . .He's gone up to Kerr Lake. . .I wanted to join him but he said he needed some alone time or some crap like that. . .I don't know, I think he's wallowing in his misery."

"Kerr Lake?" She swallowed hard. While that was not at the other end of the world, it may as well have been. And why was she considering that anyway? Driving after a man that she knew she shouldn't be with. And yet, the case was over, she was no longer his lawyer. They were not under the same chain of command.

"Yup. It's in Clarksville, Virginia. There's this ten acre patch of undeveloped land that belongs to my dad. Pop was going to retire and build a house there, but mom doesn't want to leave city life. . .You know how that is." He chuckled, "Anyway, once or twice a year, we'll get the guys together and have a good ol' campout." Jack remained silent for a while and then, almost as if reading her mind, the instructions fell from his lips. "Yeah, we usually fly out to Richmond and then rent a car. Head down. . ."

Keeter's words had trailed off as Mac fumbled through her purse for the AMEX card. Two hours after the conversation, the flight and car rental had been booked. Now Mac was driving up a road that seemed to be, and probably was, in the middle of no where. In the last ten minutes she'd thought about turning back twice, that she had no purpose trying to find Harm. But something pushed her to continue. There were things left to settle; words that should have been said if she weren't such a coward in the first place. And then, what was she afraid of anyway? Another failed relationship? Only a fool believes it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. And in this case, Mac loved very much though she didn't know how it had happened or why.

"Chalk it up to fate." She said softly and decided that being in love wasn't such a bad thing. Mac just hoped it wasn't too late, that she hadn't managed to push him away so far that he'd given up on her. She also hoped that the trip wasn't wasted if he'd decided to cut his down time earlier.

Using Jack's directions she came up on a little dirt road that was blocked off with a fence. She stopped in front of a gate, opening it and then closing it once she passed her Jeep onto the other side. There were clear tire tracks on what she assumed was the road up to the lake. The area was heavily wooded, blocking out most of the dim light from the skies above. The rain had stopped but the road was wet enough that she needed some fancy maneuvering to not get stuck.

Minutes later, she broke through the line of forestry and stopped behind a red Jeep that she assumed, and hoped was Harm's. Jumping out, she carefully made her way up the rest of the road. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw the magnificent beauty before her. The lake gleamed out, reflecting the trees in the distance. Not too far away from the vehicles she spotted an extremely large blue tent and a fire pit which had been created with the use of four heavy logs placed together to make a square. The ground around the lake was mostly grassy, giving the effect of a soft bedding around the area.

When she didn't see Harm, silently Mac hoped she hadn't walked into the wrong campground. The last thing she needed was to try and explain herself to some mountain man with a rifle pointed at her. A few seconds later she saw him emerge from the woods carrying firewood in his arms. Now this was a mountain man she wouldn't mind explaining herself to. With his faded blue jeans and his green lumber jack shirt, Harm made quite the mountain man indeed. She found herself staring, mouth hanging open a little and all of the pep talks she'd given herself on the drive over seemed to vanish as he walked towards his campground.

Keeter had said that Harm needed some 'alone time', something that she was positively invading. What if he wasn't happy to see her? She _had_ been avoiding him as much as possible down to not returning the six messages he'd left in the past weeks. Hearing the last message, she recalled, Harm seemed like a man who had given up. His voice had nearly called her to action – nearly. Work had gotten in the way, or so she'd led herself to believe. Good ol' work.

After a few breaths Mac set herself to motion, walking slowly towards the camp much as a predator would to its prey. He'd heard her come and whipped around to face her.

Harm's expressional turned from concern to shock to confusion. "What are you doing here?" He spat out in anger, his eyes penetrating in such a fashion that it was almost as if laser beams were threatening to disintegrate her.

Diane knew about the place. He'd made the mistake of bringing her along on a 'romantic camping trip' only to have it last less than half a day. She'd made a big fuss about everything from the tent to the lake to the clothing she needed to wear in order to shelter her skin from the cold. It was one of the countless arguments they had shared which led to one of their more infamous and lengthy breakups. Really, what did he ever see in her? "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"Harm." Mac's voice sounded small even to herself. The horror of the moment settled into the pit of her stomach. Her heart plummeted just a little. Still, she wasn't going to run, not without putting her point across and saving his flying career. "I'm sorry. . .I shouldn't have come but Keeter told me. . ."

"Keeter. . .he told you?" That was the last person he ever thought would betray him. "Son of a bitch." He dumped the firewood unceremoniously to the ground and threw his hands up in disgust. "Some friend _he_ is!"

Christ, had she really pushed him away so hard that now the sight of her was repulsive? She would have thought, if those messages he'd left meant anything, that Harm would be willing to wait until she came to her senses. "I guess I was wrong coming here." Her frown was deep and Mac did nothing to shield it away from his glare. "For what it was worth, I forgive you. I think I forgave you the very next day but I couldn't let my feelings interfere with the case. . I guess my anger kept me from seeing that she pushed herself on you." She swallowed thickly and glanced down at the grassy surface in shame. "I shouldn't have ignored your calls and I guess I'll have to live with that now. . . But you have to know that whatever we had, it couldn't happen then. It _scared_ me to feel so much for someone I barely knew. . ..And now I see that I was right to be scared and even more right not to have allowed myself to sleep with you. . ." She turned and slowly headed back to the Jeep throwing back at him, "Have a nice life, Commander."

As Harm stood listening to her monologue he felt the tension ease from his body. Her voice. Her skin. The look in her eyes. He wasn't dreaming and he certainly wasn't glancing at Diane. There was a truth to the words that she said, something that made him believe that the one thing he'd wanted the most was right in front of him. _'. . .even more right not to have allowed myself to sleep with you.'_ He hadn't slept with Mac and was trying to erase from memory every bit of every night he'd ever spent in Diane's arms. _'I forgive you.'_

Dear God, she'd followed him here and while it was not zillions of miles away, it was still pretty far from home. "Mac!" He wouldn't let her leave this time, if ever.

His voice was what stopped her retreat. Mac had only moved twenty feet away when she'd heard her name. Part of her wanted to turn around, to be brave enough to take his barrage. The other part _needed_ to run and hopefully find an outlet for the pain she was starting to feel. Before she had a chance to decide, she felt his hands on her arms, turning her to face him. Once she did, her eyes searched out his own. What she found was a confused expression with a hint of fear lingering along the edges. "How do I know it's really you?"

She was angered by the question, annoyed that he still didn't know her enough to differentiate between herself and, she assumed, Diane. "Harm. . ."

"Please." He whispered in such a pained voice that it showed how much he hurt. "She tricked me before." Harm had been fooled once but he would be damned if he'd be fooled again. Nothing had hurt more than watching Mac run away from him after being discovered with Diane. He'd felt betrayed and terribly violated. "Please. . .Please. How do I know it's really you?" Fundamentally, he knew that it _was_ Mac. Her eyes, her skin, it was different from Diane's and yet, he'd been fooled before.

At first, she had trouble believing that Harm hadn't invited the other woman into his home and opted to quench his basic human urges in the living room whilst she slept in the other room. He'd run after her that night, but in the morning, there was a hurt in his eyes, a pain that she purposely ignored as he tried to explain that Diane hadn't been invited nor wanted. Now she believed him and realized just how difficult the situation really was on him. She smoothed her hands over her belly and then hooked her thumbs onto the waist of her jeans. "I assume Diane doesn't have this." Just to the side of her left hipbone was a tattoo. It was simple, feminine – a butterfly with blue and light purple wings.

"She's afraid of needles." He said simply, taking the moment to breathe deeply against the scare he'd just received. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm in love with you." The words were said so softly, that if Harm had been more than a foot away he wouldn't have heard them. But Mac had said them and meant them. She'd wanted to come here to get that across to him to make him realize that she was wrong in turning him away. So she said it again, this time a little louder, her eyes speaking to him as well. "I'm in love with you. . .and I don't want to hide it anymore. . .Not from you. . .not from anyone." And that meant herself too.

In a rush his arms wrapped around her, holding them so close together. Harm's lips brushed against Mac, the sensation filling him with such joy. "Oh, Mac."

Instinctively, Mac pressed her lips against his, kissing him deeply, reveling in the sensations. This time around, there wouldn't be anyone or anything to stop the natural progression. Though she was sure some people would frown on her involvement with a former client, work wasn't worth her happiness. The bottom line was that he made her happy. She'd felt more alive during this whole case than she ever had in her entire life.

Mac ran her hands down his chest and slightly under his plaid shirt. She stopped at the hem of his jeans, her fingers running a delicate line around the fabric. The movement made him shiver and Harm broke the kiss long enough to see the want in her eyes. "Mac." He warned, motioning towards the tent. "I ah. . .I always thought I'd wind up making love to you in a nice, big bed."

She turned towards the tent and shrugged. "I'm very low maintenance and if I have to wait another second, I think I'll die of need." Taking his hand, she tugged him towards the tent, not stopping until they reached the inside.

The center was large enough for even Harm to stand comfortably in. There two partitions. One to the right which he was using to store a cooler, cooking equipment and a duffle bag. The other side had an inflatable bed covered with an opened sleeping bag where one pillow rested. She turned to him with a raised brow and resisted the urge to chuckle. "Not entirely 'roughing it' are you?"

Harm blushed at the comment and then waved a hand over the bed. "It's better than sleeping on the ground." He assured her and quickly drew Mac's body against his own. This time, the kiss wasn't the least bit gentle but full of want and need. He ran his tongue over her lips and then slipped inside to caress her own tongue. Mac's hand slid to the back of his head, holding him steady as she returned the kiss. A low moan escaped from the back of her throat and, without warning, she found herself suddenly missing her jacket.

_Sneaky Squid!_ She thought with a grin and then proceeded to work on his outfit. The man was entirely too dressed for the activities she had in mind. Mac had him out of the shirt in lightening speed and was then free to run her hands unobstructed over the planes of his chest. "You're beautiful."

"I should be saying that to you." He said gently as he pushed open her shirt and let it pool with his own. "Incredibly beautiful and so sexy." Fingers were tracing the lace covering her breasts. The touch sent a shiver down her spine and Mac's back arched into the touch. "So beautiful." Harm then lowered his head, his mouth covering the area where his fingers were before.

She wouldn't be able to take too much foreplay. They'd waited enough as it was and there was always plenty of time to explore. Instead, she used his momentary distraction as an advantage and hooked an ankle around his own, sending him tumbling onto the inflatable mattress with her on top.

Before he could utter a protest, her mouth came down on his own. They kissed roughly as her hands roved over his body to find the button of his jeans which he helped her remove. Without warning, he sprung his own attack on her, rolling Mac's body under his so that he would remove her own jeans. They came off in three quick movements and soon she was laying before him in nothing more than a pair of white lace panties. They contrasted beautifully with Mac's olive complexion.

They moved together slowly at first and then with powerful movements until Harm collapsed against her body, head resting on her shoulder as her hands ran up and down his back.

It was almost a half hour later when Harm came to, his body shivering from the cold. The light of the day had begun to fade and rain was tapping at the tent. He glanced at Mac to find her awake with a smile on her face. "I'm crushing you."

Her hands caressed his face. "It feels wonderful. No complaints here."

Even so, he was cold and couldn't very well remain joined with her forever, although he really never wanted to move again. With regret, he pulled away. "You're shivering." He noted and quickly rolled out of the bed and went in search of something to cover her with.

"Not from the cold." Mac assured but welcomed the soft blanket that he wrapped her in. She watched curiously as he picked up a device that looked like a round speaker with a mini propane tank attached to it. "What is that?"

Flipping a few buttons, Harm smiled as heat radiated from the contraption. "It's called a catalytic heater." He angled the device so that it pointed towards the bed and then slipped back next to Mac who held the blanket open for him. "This boy scout comes prepared." He brought his hands around her body, pulling her closer until she was flush against him. Somehow, he didn't think he could ever get enough of her taste and scent. "I've never felt like this before." He said solemnly as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

Mac smiled. "I haven't either." With her back to him, Harm couldn't see the sudden frown as she thought of the future. He was a pilot for the Navy and she was with JAG. They would be apart more often than they would be together. Long distance relationships rarely worked.

Almost as if he were reading her thoughts, Harm asked the question that was hanging between them. "What are we going to do about us?"

"I don't know."

But he did. In fact, he'd already made plans that would keep him in Washington. "Would it make you happy to know that I wouldn't have to leave the Washington, Virginia area?"

It would have made her ecstatic, if it wasn't because she knew that he'd joined the CIA. "Keeter told me. . . I think it was a foolish move, Harm. . .How could you leave a job that you love for someone you barely know?"

He sighed deeply. "Because I love you, Mac. . .I don't care about anything else. Yes, I love flying for the Navy, but I'll still be flying. Maybe not off of carriers but I'll enjoy it."

"The CIA will suck your soul out. I know, I've been on the receiving end of their missions." She didn't want that for him, didn't want to see his eyes almost soulless as she had with the few agents she'd been in contact with. Harm wasn't made for the shady deeds of the CIA. He was too good for them.

Shocked, Harm turned so that he could look at her. "CIA? I'm not working for them. Why did you assume that I was?"

"Keeter. . . Jack told me that. . ." Her words trailed off for a moment and she realized, with great happiness, that Harm's oldest friend had lied to her. "That jerk! That absolutely, wonderful jerk."

Harm chuckled. "I guess I owe him a few more rounds at the pub." He held her tighter against him, his fingers splaying over Mac's hip bone. "I took a job at Andrews. . .They are starting some sort of training program and needed an instructor."

Wide eyed, Mac looked at him, wondering when the stars had aligned so correctly to give her this miracle. "You're sure about this?"

"It's done." He nodded. Though life on a carrier had been everything to him, there came a time during the duration of his case that Harm began to see that it wasn't everything. He would miss the sea but knew that the accident had served as a wake up call. It had been time to call it quits and he wasn't the least bit upset about that. "As the case went on, I started to notice that I didn't need that life. It was becoming a noose."

With her fingers Mac traced the slight stubble on his face, lingering over his lips which she leaned in and kissed. "I really _do_ love you."

They made love one more time before the sun had finally disappeared and the moon was on the rise. That night he held her closely as she slept silently thanking a God who he once believed did not care for him. Harm glanced over Mac's sleeping form and smiled. She and Diane truly were as different as night and day. With that thought in his mind, he vowed never to think of that other woman ever again. "Mmmm." Mac moaned gently and curled against him, her back teasing his chest.

"I love you, Mac." He whispered before settling against her. The fates were shining on them tonight.

**THE END…. OR…. NOT**

Diane was standing on the fan deck of the Patrick Henry, glancing out with a whimsical look as the stars began to disappear and the skies grew clear. She took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the sea. Yes, the Navy was in her blood and would always be. She didn't feel the least bit of remorse over Harm and the predicament that she'd put him into. For all she knew, he was probably drinking away his sorrows in lament over the woman who bore her face.

It was logical – she was attractive and every man wanted her. Diane grinned at the thought and sighed deeply. No matter what, she would get him back – they were destined to live with this push and pull for the rest of their lives. At least, she would see to it. And if Mac ever really came between her and Harm, well. . .maybe she'd have to take a drastic measure or two.

Or she would have, except that at the very moment that the malicious thought came to her mind, a rogue wave hit the ship and sent her flying over the railing to the frigid waters below. No one heard her screams as the propeller sliced her into bite sized morsels for the sea creatures.

**RIP Diane. . . RIP.**


End file.
